Stitch in Time
by cjh4ever
Summary: Aliens are threatening Cardiff and Ianto goes back in time to seek help. These are his adventures in 1900 with a certain freelance Torchwood operative. Rated T for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_Aliens are threatening Cardiff and Ianto goes back in time to seek help. These are his adventures ..._

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**Stitch in Time **

Chapter One

He woke with a headache and could not focus on anything else for several minutes. Easing himself into a sitting position, Ianto Jones leant back against the wall and held his head in his hands fighting back the urge to be sick. If this was what time travel did to the human body he never wanted to do it again once he got back to 2008.

When his stomach was under control, he slowly raised his head and looked around him. He was in a brick-lined, curving corridor with an arched ceiling and bare stone floor. It was dimly lit and … damp. Ianto realised his back and bottom were wet from the moisture on floor and walls and levered himself upright with difficulty, gagging as his lunch threatened to come back up. He stood, swaying and listened intently. Nothing unless … He thought he heard footsteps, one set, moving away from him. This alarmed him and he looked around for places to hide in case of need and saw a door to his left. Easing it open, amazed how easily it moved; doors in the Hub usually needed a lot of encouragement if not a judicious shoulder or kick. He looked into the dim space cautiously and then stepped inside. The space was filled with artefacts, from a huge spaceship to shelves filled with jewellery and other small items. It was a treasure trove for most people but Ianto was not interested in it.

Still feeling woozy, he left the room and went along the corridor keeping alert for other people moving about. He saw and heard no one which reassured him and his confidence grew. A door stood open and he peeked in, his mouth slowly falling open. _Now this is something wonderful,_ he thought, pushing open the door and wincing when the hinges creaked. He looked back down the corridor but nothing stirred; he had been lucky. Back in the room again, he walked around, mesmerised by the sight of row upon row of metal filing cabinets all neatly labelled. He opened a drawer at random and drooled at the order within: folders were inserted tab side uppermost with clear, copperplate handwriting recording the contents. It was marvellous.

The press of metal against the back of his head and the click of a gun's hammer being pulled back alerted him to danger too late. "Stand very still or I'll blow your head off." Ianto did as he was told, making sure his hands were in sight, held up and slightly out to his sides. "Turn round, very slowly." The pressure was removed and he slowly turned keeping his hands held high.

"Hello, Jack," he said with a smile.

The man standing in front of Ianto did not change his stance, the large, old-fashioned gun remained levelled at Ianto's head held steady in one hand. The man's eyes narrowed a little but otherwise continued to stare at the intruder. "You seem to have the advantage. Who are you? How did you get in here and what do you want?"

"My name's Ianto Jones and I work for Torchwood Three. I was … deposited here by a Newok teleport from 2008. And I came to see you." The Welshman smiled again, amazed that this Jack looked identical to the man he knew other than the sideburns and slightly longer hair.

"Why?" The word was snapped out and Jack's wary and rigid stance did not alter a bit. This stranger was dressed correctly for the 21st century but anyone could do that. He had a long way to go before Jack would believe anything he said.

Ianto's smile faded and he bit his lip. "We're being invaded by the Dellans. They came through the Rift three days ago and have taken hostages including Gwen. My colleague, Gwen Cooper," he added hastily realising this Jack would not know her. "If the Dellans don't get what they want they'll kill them all and then destroy Cardiff."

"So you skedaddled out of there. Got out of danger." Jack's voice dripped with contempt.

"No!" Ianto made to step forward but stopped when the gun was pressed against his forehead. "No, I didn't," he ground out between clenched teeth. "The only reason the Dellans are here … there," he shook his head in confusion, "is to reclaim the Orb of Uska. It fell through the Rift in 1887 and was in Torchwood One's archives where it disappeared some time before 1901. I've been sent back to get it." Ianto did not say that it was Toshiko and he who had devised the plan. Left alone in the Hub while Jack and Owen negotiated with the aliens, they had realised how futile the struggle would be and resolved to retrieve the Orb.

"A likely story. What proof do you have?"

Ianto thought for a moment. "My Torchwood ID." He went to reach inside his jacket but stopped when Jack waggled the gun. "Then you get it," he said with irritation. This had sounded so much easier when he and Toshiko had come up with the plan. "It'll hardly be the first time you've felt me up."

Jack barked with laughter and a delighted grin spread over his face. "I'm starting to like you, Ianto Jones. Get it out, slowly." He kept the gun trained on the intruder and watched his every move.

"Here." Ianto handed over the laminated card. "Look, Jack," he began, "I'm new at this time travelling lark. I know you've done it all your life so just help me out, will you? What will convince you I'm telling the truth?"

Jack took a pace backwards and scanned the ID, keeping the gun in his hand but lowering it. He looked the intruder up and down, from his polished black shoes to his charcoal grey pin striped suit to his crisp blue shirt and contrasting tie to his anxious face and short curly brown hair. He was a handsome man, no doubting it, and his Welsh accent was cute. Should he turn him over to Emily or not? No, Jack decided, at least not yet.

"Tell me about me, that'll do for a start. But make it good because the pen pushers will be coming back soon." He returned the ID.

Ianto smiled. "That's easy. You're a Time Agent turned conman from the 51st century currently working freelance for Torchwood. A bit under duress but also because it suits you; you can use the equipment here to find The Doctor. Because you want him to take away your immortality. And yes, I suppose I could have got that from the archives. But I know that you were born in a frontier settlement on the Boeshane Peninsula in the Silver Devastation and you've not told anyone here that. Not yet." He was confident that this would be enough to convince Jack.

Jack had gone very still and now sat in silence regarding Ianto. All trace of a smile had gone from his face. "I've never told anyone I was a Time Agent. Maybe you are." The gun was raised again.

"No, I'm not!" protested Ianto. "Look, I don't know anything about it. It's just what you told me, okay?"

"Not okay. Sorry, Ianto Jones, but …" his voice tailed away as his finger tightened round the trigger.

Ianto thought frantically, trying to think of something that would convince Jack. He had forgotten the man's obsession with the Time Agency, he should never have mentioned it. Then he remembered. "You first found you couldn't die, or rather couldn't stay dead, when you were shot through the heart on Ellis Island," he said in a rush. His breath ragged as he struggled to control his fear. "You were hitting on another man's wife at the time."

"That I haven't told anyone," said Jack slowly, releasing the pressure on the trigger, "and the Agency is unlikely to know either." He was silent, regarding the man before him. Was he a Time Agent? Unlikely, his inexperience was shining out of him and the Agency wouldn't have sent an untried boy after him or have concocted such a convoluted story.

At that moment Ianto leant forward and was sick into a handy waste bin. He let out a small groan when it was over, standing up and wiping his mouth. "Sorry," he muttered, "told you I wasn't used to this."

Jack smiled, reassured that this boy was who he said he was. But that was an outlandish idea in itself; Ianto Jones needed to be kept close and watched. Not that that would be a chore. He cleared his throat and asked, "If this Orb you're looking for is in London, why come here? And why not come here before it was moved?"

"I told you, I've never done this before. I've no idea what it's like in this time." He looked anxious. "It is 1900, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Jack relaxed, leaning back against a filing cabinet but the gun remained in his hand.

"Thank God. We didn't have much time to be fancy and made a straight Hub to Hub jump to a time you'd be here. We knew you'd help." He paused and bit his lip again. "You will, won't you, Jack?"

"I don't know. I should raise the alarm and hand you over for interrogation." Jack watched Ianto gulp noisily. "But you intrigue me." With sudden decision, Jack holstered his gun and smiled. "Besides, I'm bored."

"Oh God." Ianto's words came out with such dread and resignation that Jack laughed out loud, the sound ringing round the large room.

"Seen me bored before, have you?"

"Too many times." Ianto grinned back, relaxing for the first time since they'd met. He took in Jack's ruffled white shirt and straight-legged woollen trousers held up with braces. The costume hadn't changed much in over a hundred years. "So, what's our next move?"

"Hey, you're the one with the mission. How you planning to get back, anyway?" Jack walked to a set of small wooden drawers and opened one revealing neat serried ranks of filing cards inside. He began flicking through them.

"With this." Ianto withdrew a credit card-sized, thick piece of metal. "What are you looking for?"

"Location of this Orb. If it was found in Cardiff there'll be a record of it. Aha!" He pulled out a card. "Uska, Orb of," he read out. "Item number TW3/87/U473-1. Transferred to London for further analysis in April 1897, authorised by Emily Holroyd." He looked up to see Ianto holding his iPhone towards him. "Huh, okay so you've got the technology. Big deal." He replaced the card in the drawer and shut it with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

"I was recording the information," said Ianto softly. He pressed the screen and replayed the stored memo. "We may need it."

"True. Any more gadgets I should know about?" Jack stood with his hands in his pockets in a pose Ianto knew so well.

"Not really. I've got a gun." He took the Glock from the holster in the small of his back and Jack took it.

Jack held it and aimed it into the distance. "Nice. But it – and the phone – mark you out as wrong. Keep them hidden." He handed the Glock back, butt first. "We're going to have to do something about your clothes, you stand out like a sore thumb in those." He paused, thinking. "We can't leave for London until tomorrow and it's too dangerous to stay here, big as the Hub is. Best come home with me." Jack wanted to keep Ianto close, just in case he proved not to be the naïve time traveller he appeared.

"We can't go to London now?" queried Ianto. He knew that the teleport was programmed to take him back to five minutes after he'd left – well, he hoped it would – but it still seemed liked wasting time not to be getting on with his mission. However, he had come to get Jack's help so ought to go along with whatever he suggested.

"No train until five. Come on."

The two men walked to the door of the room and, after Jack had checked the coast was clear, walked down the corridor. As they made their way along, Jack explained it was Sunday night and the base was only sparsely manned. They climbed up two levels then traversed another corridor. Ianto looked around him but didn't recognise much until they came to the cells. These were the blocks of three he knew well but with metal bars rather than the heavy blast doors. He'd have liked to explore but the sight of pooled blood in one cell and the smell of mingled urine and cordite deterred him, besides Jack was urging him on. They stopped at the foot of a flight of brick stairs.

"This is where it gets tricky," said Jack, looking up the stairs. "Charlie's on the next level up, or was when I came down, and he's no fool. I need you to stay here while I go and get him out of the way. I'll whistle when you can come up."

He was gone in an instant and Ianto pressed himself into the shadow of the stairs, feeling vulnerable again. This was the Hub, his place of work, but it felt very alien to him; a century had made it unrecognisable except for the cells. The time ticked by and Ianto grew cold standing against the damp brickwork and wrapped his arms round his body to keep warm. The whole Hub was colder and clammier than he'd expected and some walls were literally dripping with water. The smell of coal smoke confused him too until he decided the place must have coal fires. Ianto had lost the feeling in his feet by the time he heard the soft whistle from above. Cautiously, he edged up the stairs and was relieved to see Jack waiting at the top.

"This way, quick." Jack took hold of Ianto's arm and propelled him along, past a brick and glass office, towards the exit.

Ianto walked along obediently but his head was swivelling from side to side. There was a lake, a big one, and what looked like a submarine tethered to a bollard. Running alongside the path they were following were rail tracks and off to one side bunkers full of coal. _The legendary train_, thought Ianto, remembering stories of the rail link between Torchwoods Cardiff, London and Glasgow. It was all true. He came to a complete halt when they passed the Torchwood sign on the tiled wall; this was the modern-day work area. He twisted round to look out across the lake that was the lower level of the Hub in his day. It was incredible and he'd have liked to linger but Jack's fingers were digging into his arm and pulling him along.

"This is no time for sightseeing!" hissed Jack under his breath. "Charlie'll be back in a couple of minutes and Emily and Alice might get tired of one another and come up for a breather." He pulled his companion along and through a large metal door where he halted. "This is the main exit. We have to go up three floors. Follow me."

Jack led the way, taking the stone stairs two at a time. Ianto followed as quickly as he could, still trying to work out where he was in 'his' Hub but failing. They had climbed two floors before, above them, a door opened and they heard voices – both women – and footsteps came down the stairs towards them. Jack grabbed Ianto's shoulder and forced him to crouch in a dark corner, positioning himself so as to block sight of him.

"Jack, that you? What are you doing lurking in the gloom?" asked a brassy blonde with a marked Cockney accent. "Getting ready to pounce on us poor defenceless girls," she giggled.

"If I only had the time," sighed Jack, moving to embrace the woman, pulling her brunette friend to join them. "I'd give both of you the time of your lives." His suggestive tone and closeness were enough for the women who giggled a lot more and pressed up against him. In their corsets and thick garments they were safe from feeling anything untoward.

"Go on with you," said the brunette in a strong Valleys accent. She pulled away and pushed Jack into Ianto's corner so the Welshman had to scrunch up some more. "All mouth you are."

"Oh no, there's more to him that his mouth," laughed the blonde knowingly.

"Gloria, you haven't fallen for his claptrap, have you?!" The brunette pushed the blonde before her and they continued down the stairs continuing to talk loudly.

Jack waited until they reached the lower level before saying, "You can come out now. One more level and we'll be outside." He led the way up stopping on a landing to get his caped greatcoat from a stand. Hanging beside it were other coats and Jack took one of these, a black overcoat, and passed it to Ianto. "Put this on, and this." A flat cap followed.

The coat was small for Ianto but he got it on and held it shut when the buttons wouldn't meet the holes. The cap was greasy with hair oil and smelt but he pulled it on and hoped for the best. Jack led the way up yet another flight of stairs – Ianto thought longingly of the lift – and opened a door at the top gesturing for the other man to wait. A second later, he indicated all was well and Ianto stepped out into the night.

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_In the next chapter, Jack finds out more about this stranger who's landed in 1900. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Two

"Where are we?" Ianto asked, exiting the door leading to the underground Hub and looking round in horror and amazement at the grimy industrial landscape.

"The Docks, best place to be unnoticed if you're a secret organisation. Or a man who shouldn't be here. This way."

He strode off and Ianto had to jog to catch up, his smooth-soled shoes finding little purchase on the cobbles which were slippery with horse dung as well as the rain. The thin soles didn't protect his feet either and he felt every lump and bump of the roadway as he walked along. They were passing warehouses and offices, all of them dark and deserted. The smell and taste of coal was in Ianto's nose and mouth and there was a pall of smoke in the air. More coal fires, he reasoned, remembering stories of Cardiff's smog which was exacerbated by the dust from the tons of coal shipped out from the docks every day. Visibility wasn't helped much by the flickering gas streetlights spaced out at intervals leaving dark shadows between. All in all, Ianto considered it a convincing vision of hell.

In the distance a church clock struck the quarter hour. "What time is it?"

"Six fifteen. No one works on Sunday, lucky for us, but we'll meet the Chapel-goers soon and the ladies of the night plying their trade." He stopped abruptly and Ianto bumped into him. "There'll be lads looking to lift your valuables too so stick close."

"Always." Ianto slipped his arm through Jack's and smiled. "Or are there gay-bashers as well"

"Not so many, besides it's dark. Come on, it's a ten minute walk."

Jack started walking again, keeping Ianto's arm through his, leading him out of the docks and into rows and rows of houses. This was the wider Tiger Bay, a sprawling mass of housing for dockworkers mainly and renowned for its lawlessness and close-knit, multi-cultural community. Ianto looked about with interest and anxiety having heard much about the place; he could just remember the decayed ruins before the area was redeveloped into Cardiff Bay. The streets were lined with small terraced houses opening directly onto the pavement interspersed with corner shops and other businesses. Each street looked the same to Ianto as he was hurried past, lost in the maze of alleys and shortcuts that Jack seemed to know so well. They turned another corner and stopped halfway along a terrace at a battered red door with a well-washed step. Pulling out a key, Jack opened it and they went in. Inside was a narrow hallway with steep stairs leading up. Ianto was halfway up the stairs, in front of Jack, when a door opened and light flooded out.

"That you, Jackie boy?" asked a small dumpy, grey-haired woman in a wrap-around pinafore. "Want some supper?"

"Ah, not just yet, Ma. Got company." He grinned and nodded towards Ianto who had gone up another couple of stairs into the darkness of the first floor.

The woman didn't seem put out. "You and your boys, Jackie," she chuckled. "I've enough for the two of you, if he's staying long."

Jack looked up at Ianto and grinned. "Oh, I think this one'll be an all-nighter, Ma."

"I'll make a pot of tea and some rarebit, how about that? Would you be wanting some rarebit, son?" she called up to Ianto.

"Yes, please."

"Least you've got yourself a polite Welsh boy this time, Jackie. I'll bring it up." The woman bustled down the hall to the back kitchen. "And don't worry, I'll knock."

Jack laughed and followed Ianto up the stairs to the small landing which was unlit and very dark. Just visible was the outline of two doors. "In here." He unlocked the left hand door and ushered Ianto in before shutting it behind them.

The room was a good size with a bay window on the far wall looking out over the street. The light coming in from outside was bright enough to illuminate the double bed, a cast iron affair with ornate head and footboards, to Ianto's right on the same back wall as the door and opposite the window. A fireplace was on the right hand wall while on the left was a massive wardrobe and chest of drawers both of dark wood. Jack moved round the room and lit the two gas wall lights and the oil lamp on a table in the window before drawing the heavy plush curtains. The additional light cast a yellowish glow on the room making it seem warmer but it was still stone cold. Ianto's teeth started to chatter; his clothes had got even more damp in the drizzly rain.

"It'll warm up in a bit," said Jack, bending to put a match to the small gas fire in the fireplace. "Get your clothes off. I'm sure some of my stuff will fit." With a smell of gas and a popping noise the fire began to give off heat and he moved to the wardrobe, opening the double doors and looking inside critically.

"They'll be too big. You're fatter than me." Ianto thankfully removed the smelly cap and struggled out of the too-tight overcoat, placing them neatly on the bed.

"Who you calling fat?" Jack took out a collarless, striped shirt with long tails and matched it with a pair of dark trousers. "These should do." Ianto had removed his tie, wet shoes and socks, suit jacket and trousers and was shivering as he fumbled with his shirt buttons. "No wonder you're cold," said Jack admiring the view, "no decent underwear." He put the clothes onto a nearby easy chair and went to the chest of drawers where he rummaged around before taking out a pair of snowy white long johns.

"I'm not wearing that!" protested Ianto, gazing in horror at the all-in-one garment.

"Yes you are. Now get them on before Ma Humphreys comes up with supper and catches you bare-arsed."

Jack handed them over and stood watching as Ianto, quite unselfconsciously, removed his boxers and gingerly donned the long johns. He immediately felt warmer and put on the socks Jack handed him and then the shirt and trousers, fumbling with the button fly. In the meantime, Jack had folded Ianto's own clothes into a bundle and hidden them at the bottom of the wardrobe.

He took Ianto's gun, iPhone and other personal possessions and deposited them in a lidded cardboard box which he put on the bed. "We'll sort this lot out later. Let's have a look at you." He eyed the Welshman critically. "Your hair's a dead giveaway but we can hide that under a cap. Yeah, you'll do."

"Thanks," responded Ianto sarcastically. "These trousers are loose." He was holding onto them and wriggling at the strange feel of the clothes, especially the long johns. "And I need shoes."

"Braces." Jack handed over a pair and fastened them at the back while Ianto did the same at the front. "There, they won't fall down now." He turned at the sound of footsteps on the landing. "That'll be Ma. Go sit at the table and keep your face down, fewer people see you the better." There was a knock at the door and Jack opened it, after checking Ianto was in position.

"Here you are then, Jackie. Enough for you and your young man." Ma Humphreys walked in a couple of paces before handing over the tray, making a quick survey of the room. She smiled up at her lodger, a man she liked but who kept irregular hours and had any number of strange guests. The current boy seemed quiet enough, sitting at the table studying the tablecloth. "Don't be making too much noise now, don't want the neighbours complaining again." She patted Jack's cheek before leaving the room.

"Try not to. Thanks, Ma." Jack waited until she was at the top of the stairs then took the tray to the table by the window before going back and closing and locking the door.

"She's nice," said Ianto, setting places for them on the table. The smell of the Welsh rarebit was making him feel very hungry.

"Umm, discreet too. Here, put these on for now." He kicked over a pair of well-worn slippers from their place at the side of the bed and sat on the chair opposite Ianto. "This smells good." He bit into one of his two generous slices of rarebit and chewed with evident pleasure.

Having put on the slippers, which were large but warm, Ianto tasted his rarebit and drooled. "God, this is good! Haven't tasted cheese like this in ages." He reached to the teapot, swathed in a knitted cosy, and poured some into the cups.

The two men ate and drank in silence, savouring the meal which included large slices of homemade fruit cake. After he'd finished eating Ianto sat resting his elbows on the table, his cup held in both hands, and surveyed the room. There were few personal effects: a row of half a dozen books on a shelf; a battered carriage clock on the mantelpiece; collar studs and cuff links on top of the chest of drawers with hair oil and brushes; a pile of newspapers in the corner behind the door. The mirror over the fireplace and the faded sepia print of Cardiff Castle over the bed were obviously part of the furnishings and not Jack's choice. The only colour came from a faded and worn blue carpet that didn't meet the walls and a deep blue patterned eiderdown on the bed. Sipping his tea, and himself now a refugee in time, he fully understood how little Jack had to remind him of his past and why the small things he had managed to keep around him by 2008 meant so much.

"Nothing worth stealing," said Jack having followed Ianto's gaze around the room. He poured himself more tea and topped up Ianto's cup.

The Welshman smiled gently and put a hand on Jack's where it lay on the table. "I hadn't realised before quite how much you've had to leave behind." His fingers explored the well-known hand finding unexpected calluses.

"I don't remember everyone in the 21st century being this forward," remarked Jack looking from Ianto's hand to his face. "Repressed lot, in my opinion."

"Compared to you everyone is! In my time, you and I, we're … well, we're …" Ianto was not sure how to describe their relationship.

"Fuck-buddies?" grinned Jack, finding it strangely liberating to use the term with someone who would understand it. He found watching what he said the worst part of having to live through all these years.

"No! I mean … we are … fucking but it's more than just .. that. At least, I think it is." Ianto removed his hand and stared at the picture of the Castle as if it suddenly had immense interest for him.

"So he sent you, my future self," said Jack, putting down his cup and leaning forward, tone serious. "He knew this had to happen," he ventured. He was watching Ianto closely and saw him start with confusion. "Nooo, he didn't." He paused, considering. "So how are you going to make me forget meeting you?"

Ianto licked his lips, reminded once again that Jack was astute and, obviously, far more clued up about the consequences of time travel than he – Ianto – was. "Retcon, I was going to give you Retcon."

"And what might that be?"

"The amnesia drug." Ianto stared at Jack. "You developed it. It'll wipe out your memory for … however long it takes us to get the Orb. There are no lasting effects." Why didn't he know about it? Ianto had assumed Jack had been using it for as long as he'd been with Torchwood.

"And suppose I don't want to take it? I'm not too keen on having more of my past wiped out, thank you very much!"

After a pause during which Ianto managed to keep eye contact, he said, "You'll take it. You always put maintaining the timeline top of your priorities."

"Not so sure about that." Jack slumped back in his chair and drank some more tea, looking at nothing.

This boy was intriguing, a mix of deference to Jack's wider knowledge and experience but willing to stand up to him at other times. Jack hadn't met anyone like that in a very long time. And Ianto didn't seem bothered by his strange undying state. Had mentioned it as if it was just another part of him, like the colour of his hair. And that was worrying. The Soothsayer had told Jack he'd meet The Doctor in the 21st century and yet here was Ianto Jones from 2008 and he – Jack – was still in Cardiff and still not cured. He didn't like the sound of that. Didn't like it at all. When he looked up he found Ianto had piled the tea things on the tray and put it on the floor and was looking through his possessions in the cardboard box. He saw the boy place them all out neatly on the table: mobile phone, gun, pen, keys, watch, teleport, wallet, ID card, small change, handkerchief.

"You can take the handkerchief, the rest stays here."

"What?" Ianto looked up, started. "But I'll need money. And I can't leave the teleport. The phone could be useful too. Not for calls but it has other functions."

"Until the battery runs out. And your money's no good." Jack picked up a one-pound coin and smiled. "This is no more use that this stuff." He indicated a small bowl which contained squares of different coloured plastic. "They're credits, 44th century, in case you didn't know." He dropped the coin in amongst them.

Ianto's shoulders slumped. "I hadn't thought of that. Don't suppose the credit cards would be any good either," he smiled, trying to cover his embarrassment at such an elementary mistake. "I did tell you this was my first attempt at time travel."

"It shows." Jack stood up suddenly. "I'll take the tray down." In a moment he was gone, pulling the door to behind him.

In his absence, Ianto sat and contemplated his situation. It had been a stupid idea to make this trip; he was woefully unprepared and if he'd not been found by Jack he'd either be wandering lost in the bowels of the Hub or locked up in one of the cells. Any of the Torchwood operatives would have spotted him as out of place in an instant. Even if by a miracle he'd avoided capture and got out of the base, he had no idea of the geography of the city and his money was no good. He'd have been easy prey for any ruffian who came across him. Only with Jack's help had he got this far. His only chance of succeeding and getting the Orb back to Cardiff in 2008 in time to save the lives of the hostages and his colleagues - and prevent the probable destruction of the city if not the UK, maybe the whole planet! - was to persuade Jack to continue to help. Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned the Retcon but he'd assumed Jack would know all about it. Could he force Jack to take it when the time came? Probably not which meant he, Ianto Jones, would have loused up the timeline all by himself. It was a depressing thought and he gave into self-pity for fully five minutes.

At the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, Ianto sat up and took a deep breath. If there was one thing in this era that he knew about it was Jack Harkness. He had to use his intimate knowledge of the man to his advantage and make him help. But could he force this man who was so alone, so troubled? Ianto had seen Jack angry and ruthless – he shuddered when he thought of how the man had dealt with the Cyberwoman Lisa had become – but never as lost, distrustful and … depressed as now. Ianto felt ashamed of himself at even thinking of using his superior knowledge of the man to manipulate him into helping and then to forget all about it. But he had to, had to get to London and get that Orb from the London archives before it was too late for Gwen and all those other people. Their fate rested in his hands and he was going to do everything he could to save them and Jack was going to help whether he liked it or not.

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_Many thanks for all the reviews and alerts. It's great to have such an encouraging response to this story - Jay._


	3. Chapter 3

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Three

The footsteps outside the bedroom halted and went into the room next door where drawers were opened and shut and it sounded as if furniture was being moved. Then a door closed and the bedroom door opened. Jack entered, his arms full of more clothes and other items.

"Grab some of this," he said, "or I'll drop the lot." Between them, he and Ianto got the items to the bed and spread them out. "This jacket should fit you better than Bert's coat. Try it on."

Ianto did as asked. The black, no dark blue, three-quarter length jacket was heavy and warm and fitted well. "This is great. Thanks."

"Let's try this." Jack stepped forward and put a cap on Ianto's head, pulling it low over his eyes. "Umm, bit big maybe but that covers up your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Ianto was looking at himself in the mirror over the mantelpiece. He didn't recognise the man reflected there, he looked like the photograph of his great-grandfather, who had been a docker in the 1920s, that his gran kept on her mantelpiece.

"It's neither one thing nor the other. Either needs to be shorter or longer. Just keep it covered up." Jack was sitting on the bed watching him. "There's two pairs of boots, see which fits best."

Ianto removed the coat and cap, it was too warm to keep them on, and after some hesitation hung them on the bedpost at the end of the bed. He tried the newer boots first but these were large and he had trouble keeping them on his feet even with them laced up; he'd have blisters in seconds if he wore these. The others, more battered and in need of a good polish, were a better fit.

"This is very good of you, Jack. I really am grateful, for everything," he said as he walked round the room trying out his new footwear. He looked across and smiled at the older man, trying to make a connection that would ensure his continued assistance.

"Yeah, well, someone's got to help you or you'll bugger up the entire 20th century! If you want to keep your phone and stuff on you, use this. It goes round your waist inside your clothes. The gun can go in an inside pocket, if you still want to take it."

"A money belt." Ianto took the item and looked it over, trying the heavy metal popper fastenings. He looked up. "Why shouldn't I take my gun?"

"How much ammo you got? Soon as it runs out it's no use, unless you want to use it as a club." Jack smiled and stood, picking up the discarded boots and throwing them in the bottom of the wardrobe where they landed on top of Ianto's own discarded clothes.

"Careful! I should hang that suit up and let it dry." He reached in and pulled the bundle out.

Jack shrugged. "If you want. Use one of the hangers and stick it on the rail for now."

Ianto busied himself straightening out his clothes, marvelling at how thin and light they were in comparison with what he was now wearing. "Is the next door room yours too?" He had assumed it was used by another lodger.

"Yeah, I've got the whole of this floor." He settled in the one easy chair which he pulled closer to the fire. "Suits me and Ma gets less disturbance." Reaching to the mantelpiece, he took a cigarette from a box and lit it only then remembering to offer one to Ianto.

"No, thanks."

Ianto patted down his suit, smoothing out the creases before hanging it from the hook behind the door deciding it was more likely to dry in the warmth of the room than in the wardrobe. He moved the outer jacket and cap from the foot of the bed and hung these inside the wardrobe, enjoying the ordinariness of the tasks. Glancing across at Jack, he saw the man was lost in thought and decided not to disturb him. Standing irresolute in the middle of the room the newspapers by the door caught his eye and he took the top one and went to the table. He took a moment to slot his possessions into the money belt, taking the notes and cards from the wallet at it was too bulky to fit; they went in all right though it was a bit of a squeeze. With that done, he spread the newspaper out so he could read it comfortably. The date of the paper was 12 October 1900, the first indication Ianto had of the time of year. The paper's prose was heavy going for someone used to 21st century journalism but Ianto was fascinated by the account of the Boer War in South Africa. There were reports of guerrilla raids, an eye-witness account of the Siege of Mafeking which had been lifted five months earlier and details of the Boer President Paul Kruger's arrival in the Netherlands where he had been given sanctuary after the creation of the South African Republic. Other items also interested Ianto, especially the advertisements. Some for goods he'd never heard of and others which quoted unbelievably low prices - a tailor was offering bespoke suits for less than five pounds!

Ianto lifted his head and opened his mouth to remark on his find but thought better of it. The look on Jack's face told him the man was in that dark, faraway place that he went to sometimes. Ianto had seen him like this occasionally, though less and less over the two years they had known one another, and knew it was more evidence that this Jack had still to come to terms with his situation. Thinking about it, Ianto realised Jack had only had a year or so to accept he had to wait a century or more to see The Doctor on whom he was pinning his hopes of a cure. No wonder he was depressed. Ianto went back to the newspaper. He read of the work in Splott on a new park due to open the following year and a campaign being run to obtain city status for Cardiff. It was amazing to think that he, Ianto Jones, was sitting here in a Cardiff that wasn't even a city. And that it would be another fifty five years before it became the capital of Wales. He could have sat reading for longer but pressure was building in his bladder. Rising, he went to stand by Jack who had his eyes closed.

He placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Jack? Sorry but I need the bathroom." For a moment he wondered if the other man had heard him but then Jack stirred and looked up.

"You'll have to wait about fifty years for one of those."

"What?"

Jack smiled slowly and stood up. "The lav's out back." Ianto stood stock still, his mouth agape which made Jack chuckle. "And don't even think of a bath, far too much palaver. Come on, I'll show you."

They left the room and Jack led the way downstairs and along the dark passage to the kitchen. The room was dim, the sole light coming from outside the uncurtained window, until Jack found a stub of candle and matches on the side and lit it. He held up the candlestick – a crude metal affair with a handle and glass cover – and opened the back door. The cold hit Ianto, cutting through him and he was shivering as they walked over uneven flagstones away from the house to the bottom of the garden.

"Here we are." Jack opened the door of the unwelcoming wooden hut and held out the candle. "Put this on the ledge just inside." Ianto hesitated, appalled at the prospect of using this … facility, until Jack clapped him on the shoulder and pushed him forward. "And the newspaper's not for reading," called Jack, shutting the door.

Smiling to himself, Jack, hands in his pockets, sauntered back to the house and stood looking at the potatoes and other vegetables in their neat rows just as he and Ma had sown them back in the spring. They were a welcome addition to an otherwise monotonous diet. In a corner he saw the small run for the three chickens, more evidence of the need for self-sufficiency to help with expenses. This was such a backward place but he couldn't leave, had to hang around and wait. Then, with a sigh, he looked up at the night sky. There was a half moon with a great swathe of stars spread out around it. That's where he wanted to be, out there travelling to alien worlds not stuck on this ball of dirt. What was he still doing here in 2008? It was inconceivable! Surely The Doctor would have appeared by then and taken him away or, if he didn't want Jack around, at least have fixed his teleport so he could go off on his own. He looked up when Ianto stumbled down the path, the candle held out before him.

"That is the most disgusting place I have ever seen," said Ianto, scowling.

"Think yourself lucky Ma Humphreys keeps it as clean as she does," snapped Jack, suddenly irritated by this pampered man who had been foisted on him. "And don't you ever say anything like that in front of her." He turned on his heel and went indoors not caring if Ianto followed him or not.

Back in the bedroom, Jack stood in the middle of the room facing the window. Ianto closed the door and also stood, unsure what to do for the best. He knew he should be grateful but that outhouse had been smelly, clammy and infested with spiders and quite, quite horrible. It had brought home to him again that he truly was in another time. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to criticise," he said when the silence had gone on too long.

"Then don't." Jack took a deep breath, annoyed with himself for losing his temper but the future which this boy had hinted at had been gnawing away at him. He had to know more. He turned and faced Ianto. "Has The Doctor come? Have I seen him?" He took a step forwards. "Why didn't he cure me? What the fuck am I still doing in Cardiff?" He was inches from Ianto now, close enough for his spittle to land on the other man's cheek. "I have to know," he ground out.

With an audible gulp, Ianto drew a breath. He was backed up against the wall and convinced Jack would hit him if he didn't get answers. But Ianto didn't want to tell him. He was messing with the timeline enough and giving this Jack any information about his future was a major contravention of protocol. Standing firm, Ianto said, "I can't tell you that. You know I can't."

"You're going to make me forget," said Jack slowly, his voice hard and low. "What difference does it make?"

"I can't." Ianto saw the raised fist and instinctively closed his eyes but did not flinch.

The blow never landed, movement in the air told him Jack had gone and Ianto opened his eyes. He saw Jack flop into the easy chair and bury his head in his hands. After a moment, Ianto went to Jack's side, kneeling down so their heads were on a level. He found Jack was weeping noiselessly. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and ran it through Jack's hair ending by gently pulling his head to rest on his shoulder. Jack came willingly enough and didn't object when Ianto wrapped his arms round him and kissed the top of his head. Arms snaked round Ianto and held on tight as the weeping continued.

"It won't be as bad as you think, cariad, honestly it won't." He rocked the man in his arms back and forth gently, holding on to him tight.

Five minutes later when the clock on the mantelpiece showed eight fifteen, Jack eased himself out of Ianto's arms and wiped at his eyes, embarrassed to have broken down. When he raised his head and looked into the other man's eyes, expecting to see disgust or pity, he instead found love. That scared him, love always had, but at that moment he needed someone to care for and about him more than anything else. Leaning forward his lips met Ianto's and they kissed, exploring one another's response. Ianto had to rein himself in, eager to enjoy the familiar touch and smell of Jack but still enough in control to recognise that this was not the same man with whom he had already shared so much. Ianto was a stranger to this Jack. After several minutes, he found the sensitive spot below Jack's right ear and nibbled and licked at it which, as it always did, made Jack moan with pleasure. Emboldened, Ianto searched out other places on this familiar body and got a similar reaction. Jack was hurting and needed comfort and Ianto knew how to provide it; he would do that for him if nothing else.

The two men were half undressed, lying on the floor wrestling with one another as they explored one another's bodies when Jack, who happened to be on top at the time, propped himself on one elbow and looked down. His breath coming in short gasps he said, smiling lazily, "We'd be much more comfortable in the bed."

"You can have me wherever you want, cariad." Ianto cupped Jack's face in both his hands and pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss.

"Ohhh," groaned Jack as their lips parted. "Bed then."

Rising in one lithe movement, Jack held out a hand and pulled Ianto to his feet. They quickly divested themselves of their remaining clothes and, while Jack turned off the wall lights and the lamp, leaving the fire on low, Ianto turned back the eiderdown, and slipped between the cold sheets with a shiver. Jack joined him almost immediately and they lay in one another's arms, Ianto keeping Jack close to help warm the bed while Jack began a minute examination of his new bed mate. Their lovemaking was a mixture of old and new, strange and familiar but hugely satisfying for them both and half an hour later they lay back on the pillows breathing heavily and perspiring.

"Let's pull these up," said Jack, reaching for the blankets and sheets which were bunched at the foot of the bed; the eiderdown had fallen off the bed entirely. He fussed about, ensuring Ianto was covered from his neck to his toes before lying back himself.

Snuggling under the bedclothes, heavier than the duvet he was used to, Ianto turned on his side and lay with his head on Jack's shoulder, moving the man's arm to make room. "That's better," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Make yourself at home, why don't you?" Jack teased.

He kissed the top of Ianto's head and relaxed, letting his fingers trace a pattern on the man's smooth skin. The sex had been better than any he had had for a long time; Ianto had played Jack's body like a violin. Jack accepted that Ianto's intimate knowledge of his - Jack's - body was conclusive proof of the boy's story. And that kind of intimate knowledge only came from long association. They must be very close in 2008 which amazed him. In his long and eventful life Jack had kept other people at a distance, using them to satisfy his physical needs but for the most part ensuring there were no emotional complications. That was evidently not true with this boy. He had let him under his defences – or Ianto had found his own way through – and made a place for himself there, getting closer than even Jack had believed remotely possible. Staring up at the ceiling, seeing the cracks and odd shaped water stains in the dim glow of the fire, Jack felt more at peace than he had for a very, very long time. Maybe, if Ianto was the reward, it would be worth hanging around Cardiff.

Ianto yawned hugely and shuffled against Jack. "What time do we have to leave tomorrow?" he asked sleepily, keeping his eyes closed.

"Around four. Don't worry, I'll wake you. You see, I don't - "

"Sleep. I know. If you want to watch me, it's okay. I'm used to it." With that, Ianto resolutely forgot about time travel and horrid outside lavatories. Instead he pictured himself lying in Jack's arms, in his own bed, in his warm flat with a bathroom down the hall. He was asleep in minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Stitch in Time**

Chapter Four

Strange sounds woke Ianto early that morning. He lay unmoving for several minutes in the soft feather bed as all that had happened the day before returned to him. It seemed incredible but he really was lying in bed in a house in Tiger Bay on a Monday morning in October 1900. A faint rustle of paper made him look over towards the only source of light and he saw Jack sitting at the table in the window, swaddled in the eiderdown and reading a newspaper.

"Hey," said Ianto softly, pushing down the covers and getting his arms free. He soon regretted that as a blast of chilly air hit his bare shoulders. "Jeez, it's cold!" He snuggled back under the covers until only his face peeped out of the top.

"Can't keep the fire on all night," said Jack, padding over to the bed. He kicked off his slippers and dropped the eiderdown, climbing into the bed. "The gas is unstable, could easily asphyxiate you in your sleep."

Ianto wrapped his arms round Jack's cold body. "Come here and warm up. What time is it?"

"Almost three. No need to get up yet."

They lay in silence and Ianto heard the sound that had woken him. It was an irregular tapping or a strike of metal perhaps and it seemed to come from the street outside. "What's that noise? There, that one."

"Foremen on their way to work. It's their hobnail boots on the cobbles." Jack's head was resting against Ianto's and they spoke in whispers, not because they needed to but as if speaking any more loudly would break the intimacy of the moment. "The shift starts at four on Mondays, to make up for having Sunday off, and they have to get everything ready for the dockers. Another half an hour and the men will be on their way in."

"They start early. Suppose the wives will have been up even earlier." Ianto snuggled further under the covers. He had slept well, exhausted by the unusual happenings of the day before and relaxed from the two men's lovemaking. His hand drifted down Jack's body and found his arse where it rested, stroking the smooth skin.

"You're likely to get more than you bargained for if you carry on doing that," remarked Jack, shifting closer to his bed mate.

Ianto grinned. "Oh, I'm bargaining on a lot. The question is, will you be able to deliver?"

In a trice Jack pushed Ianto onto his back and lay on top of him, kissing his way down his body. Their shag was accompanied by much stifled laughter and ended with them both at the foot of the bed, sweating even without the bed covers over them. When they had got their breath back, they resumed the more usual sleeping positions and pulled the covers straight once more.

There was more noise from outside and an occasional voice speaking to another in low tones. Ianto could just see the clock in the light from the oil lamp and saw it was three forty. He sobered when he realised that in another twenty minutes they'd have to get up and start their quest for the Orb. "What's the plan, Jack? How do we get to London? And what do we do when we get there?"

"We hitch a lift on the first train out. Normally I'd be up in first-class but with you along we'll be travelling freight." His tone was light, unconcerned, and Ianto was reassured as he always was when Jack was in charge. "The tricky bit will be getting into the Hub and out again the other end without being seen. But we should be all right."

"Tell me about the train. I always thought it was a myth."

"No myth. There are three trains actually, one each between Cardiff and London, London and Glasgow and Glasgow and Cardiff. They make one return journey each day, except Sundays." Jack pulled the pillow down to get more comfortable, his right arm round Ianto.

"What do they carry? Can't be enough people travelling up and down to make it worthwhile."

"Mainly artefacts. Sometimes captives. And someone from London's always coming down to check up on us provincials." Jack's tone was scathing. "And if they're not here they want Emily or Alice to report on this or that. And paper reports on absolutely everything. Bloody people!"

Ianto smiled. "Nothing changes."

"They still doing it? Why does that not surprise me!" He paused. "That may be our problem. London have so much stuff gathered in their archives - from us, Glasgow and the outposts of Empire - it could take weeks to find the Orb."

"I may be able to help there."

"How?"

"Tosh downloaded the plans of the archive into my phone. And I used to work there. May be something that looks familiar."

"At last, a bit of forethought. Might make a time traveller of you yet."

"Oy!" Ianto punched Jack's arm light-heartedly. "I told you, we were in a hurry."

"So you did, not that that's any excuse." He fended off another blow. "Anyway, if we can find this blessed thing, we should be able to get the train back later today. If not, we'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Jack wondered if it was wrong to hope they were delayed. On the whole he enjoyed having Ianto around, despite him bearing the news of the long and empty future stretching out before him. A hundred years, more probably, before he had any chance of seeing The Doctor and sorting out the mess he'd landed in. Jack had already spent thirty one years making his way from the United States to the UK and knew what it felt like to waste his days in inconsequential activity, getting drunk so often it was a joke. At least meeting the she-devil Emily Holroyd and getting stuck with Torchwood had given him some purpose. He disliked the work he had to do, most of the people he worked with and the purpose of the organisation itself but it paid the bills and gave him freedom to roam the streets. And he was under no illusion about his fate if he'd refused Emily's offer - he'd seen too many aliens die in the cells - and knew incarceration was still a possibility if he stepped too far out of line.

The last few hours with Ianto had been … fun. Jack had enjoyed looking after him, making sure he came to no harm on his little mission. And Ianto appreciated at least some of what Jack had to put up with by being immured in this time, though Jack hankered after a sonic shower rather than indoor plumbing. The sex had been good too. Very good, if he were honest and he always tried to be when analysing himself. A quick fumble with one of the local boys had been his lot for a while, that or finding one of the prostitutes who worked around the area; the well brought up girls didn't give it up without a wedding ring on their finger even in Tiger Bay. Yes, all in all, Jack would be quite happy if Ianto stayed around for a while, perhaps even stayed permanently …

"Is there any way of getting a wash?" asked Ianto, aware that time was passing and they would soon have to leave this haven for the rough outside world. "Hands and face would do."

"Yeah. I'll get some hot water. You stay here and keep warm." Jack slipped from the bed, and pulled on his greatcoat. "We'll need to be quiet, don't want to wake Ma." With that he was out of the room, soundless in his bare feet.

Ianto lay in the bed, his hand tracing the indentation where Jack had lain. The bed was marvellously comfortable and he stretched like a cat, dislodging the covers and feeling the cold air once more. Never again would he complain about central heating bills; he couldn't bear to live in a house as cold as this. He looked round the room again, trying to imprint it in his memory. If all went well he would not be coming back and he wanted to remember it and imagine Jack here, seated at the table or by the fire, just as he had seen him. The life of a time traveller was a lonely one and a wave of sorrow washed over him at the thought of the century Jack had yet to endure. He was pleased Jack seemed in a lighter mood this morning and was determined to keep him that way.

The bedroom door opened and Jack came in carrying a large jug. "Better use it while it's hot," he said as he set it on the table, moving aside the other things to make room, and took a large bowl out of a cupboard. "There's soap, flannel and a towel here." He lit one of the gas lights. "There's a razor too."

Reluctantly Ianto got out of the warm bed and shivered afresh. Standing by the table, he poured some water into the bowl and took up the hard, unscented soap. He worked hard to make a lather then washed his hands and face before tackling his underarms and genitals. The towel was thin but it dried him, more or less. Teeth chattering, Ianto put on his long johns and hurriedly got dressed, remembering to put on the money belt under his shirt. By the time he was ready, Jack had washed and was part-dressed too.

Ianto took up the cut throat razor and then put it down again. "Don't think I'll bother," he said. "I'd probably cut my throat."

"It's not too bad, once you get the knack. Want me to do you?" He was fastening a clean ruffled shirt and adjusting his braces.

"How long will it take?" It was four ten and Jack had said the train left at five.

"Not long. Sit down."

Ianto sat in the chair and, with the towel draped round his neck, he was expertly lathered up and then shaved by Jack. It took just a few minutes and Ianto was glad they'd taken the time; he felt more ready to face the world. Jack shaved himself and rinsed and dried the razor; he'd learnt to look after his possessions. He found a toothbrush and powder and quickly did his teeth before offering it to Ianto.

"Only got the one," he said, "but I don't mind if you don't."

"Thanks." The normal standards of hygiene didn't seem to apply in this time and Ianto quickly cleaned his teeth.

"Okay, we'd best be off," said Jack, reaching for his coat. "Remember to be quiet, boots make a heck of a row on bare boards. First stop the kitchen then I expect you'll want the lav." He grinned at Ianto's expression of distaste. "It's either that or hold it in."

Ianto sighed heavily. "I'll use it." He placed his Glock in an inside pocket of his jacket and pulled the cap onto his head.

Jack turned off the lights and, after checking he had everything he needed in his pockets, the two men crept down the stairs and through to the kitchen. With the same stub of candle they'd used before, Ianto went to the outhouse, shutting his mind to the state of the place. When he had finished, Jack was waiting outside and used the facilities before they both went back to the kitchen, had a glass of water each, left the candle behind and exited through the front door.

The street was quiet but some of the houses opposite had lights showing at upstairs windows. "They're the office workers," explained Jack quietly, leading the way along the streets and alleys. "A lot of them start at five thirty." He paused at a junction. "Let's go this way, see if Josie's open."

"Josie?"

"A bakery. Could get some fresh bread if we're lucky, she bakes on Mondays."

Ianto's stomach growled at the mention of food. He had wondered if Jack would think about supplies but had not wanted to ask. The man was already doing so much for him it didn't seem fair to press for more. He'd have liked a cup of tea too – coffee seemed out of the question. He followed Jack down mostly dark streets. The only spots of light were where people were getting ready for work: a dairy where a milkman was harnessing a tired nag to the shafts of a flatbed wagon; the owner of a tobacconists selling cigarettes to dockers on their way to work; a butcher scrubbing at his counter top; and sailors rolling out of brothels on their way to their ships. The smell of baking told Ianto they were close to Josie's and his mouth salivated as they rounded a corner to see a tiny shop wedged in next to a carpenter's yard.

"Let me do the talking," warned Jack as he opened the door.

Inside the shop consisted of a wooden counter behind which were racks containing loaves of cooling bread. The massive bread oven loomed to one side where a man in baker's whites was loading more trays into its gaping maw. Ianto edged that way, enjoying the blast of heat that came from the oven.

"Hello, Jack, you're up early. Or ain't you been to bed yet?" laughed a thin woman who had come out of the back room, wiping her hands on a floury cloth.

"Slept like a baby," he protested with a smile, glancing at Ianto. "Couple of your delicious loaves, love."

She turned to get them from the rack. "Want a bacon sandwich? I've got one going spare."

"You know me, never say no." He reached into his trouser pockets and pulled out some change. "How much is that?"

"That's ten'pence for the loaves and tuppence for the sandwich." She had wrapped the loaves in tissue paper and put the sandwich in a brown paper bag where it oozed grease. "Shilling all together." She took the coins Jack held out. "Ta."

Jack slotted the loaves into his pockets, one each side, and picked up the sandwich. "See you soon," he called as he led Ianto out into the cold once more. He set off at a good pace, striding out for the Docks. "Here, you can have this." He passed the sandwich to Ianto.

"Are you sure? Don't you want any?" The aroma of the bacon was assailing Ianto's nostrils and it was as much as he could do not to tear into the sandwich immediately.

"Your need is greater than mine. Go on, eat. And make it fast, you'll need both hands soon."

Needing no more urging, Ianto opened the bag and inhaled the smell before taking a large mouthful. He almost groaned at the taste of fresh bread and home-reared bacon, so much more flavour than the stuff that came in packets. He jogged to catch up with Jack who was still walking fast through the maze of streets, taking another a bite once he was alongside him. "This is fabulous," he muttered. "Please have some."

"All right." Jack halted and took a bite from the sandwich Ianto held out then started walking again.

Men were walking along in the same direction as them and Ianto, after overcoming an urge to hide, realised no one was taking the slightest bit of notice of him. One or two men greeted Jack but mostly they were ignored. After making a number of twists and turns down various narrow streets, Jack halted at the end of an alley and held out a hand to stop Ianto too. Before them was a wider street between warehouses and Ianto thought it was the entrance to the Hub but couldn't be sure in the dark. On the right loomed the ghostly shape of a ship, various pinpricks of light showing on its deck and on the dock alongside. Craning his head, Ianto saw that there were more ships lined up and around all of them men were scurrying loading or unloading goods in sacks or crates.

"Come on," said Jack, putting away a pocket watch he'd consulted, "and stick close."

They crossed the street and came to a door which Jack opened by tapping a combination into the hidden lock. They were at the top of some stairs, not the ones they'd climbed the day before. Leading the way, Jack went down the stairs making as little noise as possible and listening hard for any sound of other people. These top three levels of the Hub were offices and bedrooms and any one of them could be occupied; he didn't want to be surprised by someone leaving them at an inopportune moment. They made it down to the third level without incident where Jack pushed Ianto into a side corridor and, keeping a hand on his back, urged him forward. A few yards later, they passed through a door and made a sharp turn right. Ianto found himself standing at an opening some twenty feet above ground level. Stretching before him was the lake he had seen before.

"Good, we're in time," breathed Jack in his ear, standing beside him. "That's where we have to be." He pointed to the top of a column a dozen yards away accessible by a narrow ledge.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Five

"I don't know if I can do that," whispered Ianto, his heart in his mouth. The ledge Jack had indicated was barely six inches wide, twenty feet off the ground and there were few handholds.

"Sure you can." He pulled Ianto back into the corridor and stood with both hands on his shoulders looking into his eyes. "You work for Torchwood so I know you've been trained right. All you have to do is copy what I do. Okay?"

Ianto experienced the usual boost in confidence that came when Jack expressed such faith in him. He was still unsure but he would give it his best shot. "Okay."

"Good man." Jack leant in for a quick kiss then, smiling, led him back to the opening.

Jack made Ianto stand to the side while he crouched down and looked out. Below him was the railway level of the Hub, centred round the lake. Over to the left he saw Tom working on the train with Walter who was shovelling in the coal to build up steam. Jack had cultivated the two men's friendship and had no worries about them. Scanning the railway tracks he saw nothing unusual. At the station were two of the clerks, four large crates beside them with a couple of the leather pouches used for documents resting on top. They had a basket with them from which poked the tops of bottles. The clerks were arguing about something and as Jack watched one of the them ran off to the stairs; they must have forgotten something. Beyond the clerks was the station house and Jack cursed silently under his breath. Alice Guppy was in there talking to the stationmaster and she had her coat on which probably meant she was intending to travel. Jack had hoped to have the train to himself but it wasn't to be.

The engine started moving slowly along the tracks and Jack stood up. "Time to move," he whispered, smiling encouragement.

Ianto stood in the opening, hugging the wall so as not to be seen by anyone who looked up or walked across the metal walkways. He watched Jack intensely as he swung out onto the ledge, using protruding bricks or small holes as handholds, and eased his way down the ledge. In less than two minutes he was standing on the column above the rail tracks and beckoning Ianto to follow. With a silent prayer, the Welshman manoeuvred himself onto the ledge and cautiously inched along it, sliding his feet and searching for each handhold. Halfway to the column, the wall vibrated to the sound of the train which was trundling past the platform below. Ianto froze, unable to move. He closed his eyes and counted to twenty, remembering that Gwen's life – and many others - depended on him. Sweating freely he opened his eyes and continued, conscious of the train carriages moving slowly beneath him. Earlier than he expected, he reached his goal and Jack's arms were round his waist pulling him onto the column.

"Well done," Jack whispered. He had thought the boy was going to freeze but he had made it eventually. "Now, one more step and we're on our way." Holding Ianto's hand he said, "Jump."

Ianto found himself going with Jack, taking a small jump from the column and landing on top of one of the now stationary train carriages. His heart skipped a number of beats as he scrabbled for purchase on the sloping surface, eventually lying prone along the middle ridge with his head towards the engine. He gripped his handholds with all his might and cursed Jack under his breath. This was typical of the man. One stupid plan after another and never bothering to share them with anyone! Jack shuffled round until he was lying in front of Ianto but facing the other way so their heads were close together. The older man was grinning widely and obviously enjoying himself.

"Why didn't you tell me we'd be travelling on top of the train?" hissed Ianto.

"Won't be for long. Grab hold of me, want to take a look over the side."

Jack twisted round and was soon hanging with his head over the platform side of the train. Ianto let go of one of his precious handholds and fastened the free hand on Jack's coat, somewhere about his waist. The urge to push him over the side was strong but Ianto fought it and a couple of minutes later, as the train jerked forward, Jack wiggled himself back into place.

"We're in luck," he said, still grinning, "no Alice." He had seen her walk off the platform after handing a large envelope to one of the clerks who had got onto the train. "We can get down now." He edged backwards, feet feeling his way, reached the front of the carriage and after a moment found the metal ladder. "Come on," he urged Ianto who was creeping forward very slowly.

When Ianto was at the top of the ladder, Jack climbed down and stood at the bottom watching his companion. Ianto had swung round and gone down two rungs when the train picked up speed and went into the tunnel, making a sweeping turn to the right. The movement put unexpected strain on Ianto's hold, his sweaty palms slipped and he fell off the ladder. He landed heavily onto the small ledge and would have gone over the side, where the train's wheels would have run over him, but Jack's hand caught the collar of his jacket and yanked him back from disaster. The two of them stood, breathing hard. In the backwash of light from the engine on the other side of the coal tender, Ianto saw that Jack was still grinning. Taking a step back, he opened the carriage door and pushed Ianto in.

Jack moved to the middle of the carriage and lit the oil lamp hanging from the roof. With this burning, Ianto was able to see the space was roughly ten feet wide by twelve deep and contained one wooden bench seat along the side opposite the door with a webbing rack above. On either side of the door were built-in cupboards that came up to waist height. There were windows on both sides although there was nothing to see. Two canvas bags were stowed in the rack and a small wood burning stove under the right hand window was alight, taking the chill from the carriage. As the train lurched and swayed, Ianto staggered across, hanging onto the rail set into the roof, and reached the seat and sat down heavily. He put his head in his hands, feeling Jack sit beside him.

"Next stop London," said Jack happily, holding out his hands to the stove.

Ianto raised his head. "You nearly killed me"

"Nearly being the operative word." Jack looked over at him. "What did you think we were going to? Waltz into the Hub and get on the train with everyone else? You'd have been in a cell quicker than I could say Jack Robinson." He sat back. "And I'd have been in the one next to you!"

"Then you should have warned me," persisted Ianto, trying to make his point without losing his temper. "You're always doing this and I'm sick of it."

"Rubbish. If I'd told you, you'd have got all wound up about it and been too scared. Besides, it worked."

Ianto gave up. He always lost this argument and it was obviously not to be any different with this version of Jack. He looked around the bare carriage again, surprised by its Spartan appearance. "This is a bit basic. Thought Torchwood would be able to afford better than this."

"The others are better, comfy seats and everything. This is for Tom and Wally, not that they get much chance to take a break, especially Tom. Poor bloke's up there now making sure we stay on the track and hoping no more of the tunnel's fallen in." Jack stood up and emptied his coat pockets, putting the loaves of bread, two apples and a couple of wrapped packages on the seat. "Want a cup of tea?"

"Love one."

"Won't be long." With that Jack left the carriage.

Ianto rose and removed his cap and jacket, brushing off the worst of the dirt he'd acquired getting on the train, placing them neatly in the overhead rack before doing the same with Jack's coat. The little stove was giving off a good heat and he stood in front of it warming his backside and hands before sitting down close by. While he was still smarting from the precipitous way they'd got onto the train, he had to admit that they had made it on board. And they had supplies for the journey. Settling back with his head against the wall, Ianto looked out at the strange shadows and shapes that appeared on the wall of the tunnel passing by. Billows of smoke from the steam engine were lit up by stray sparks. It was hard to judge their speed – perhaps ten miles an hour he thought – and tried to calculate the time it would take to arrive in London but gave up; he'd never been good at that sort of mathematical problem. The train slowed and moved right as if going over points and Ianto looked over to the left in time to see a signal box and the mouth of another tunnel as they crept past. The lighting was good around the junction and he could see a little way up the line. The tunnels - running secretly under housing, industry and goodness knows what - amazed him and he wondered again at the dedication of the people who had made Queen Victoria's whim to create Torchwood a reality.

Just when he was starting to wonder what was keeping Jack, the door opened and he came through. In his hand was a covered metal jug. "Sorry, got chatting." He moved to one of the side cupboards and put the jug on the metal stand obviously made for it. Reaching into the cupboard, Jack pulled out a teapot, four thick china mugs, a tea caddy and a squat bottle of milk. As he started to make the tea, Ianto got up and moved to join him, holding onto the rail to keep his footing as the train picked up speed.

"There was a junction back there. Was that the Glasgow line?" he asked.

"Uh huh. I'll just leave this to brew for a minute." Jack stood, feet firmly planted and hands in his pockets. "The trains are timed so they should never meet but we have a signalman posted there just in case."

"What time will we arrive?"

"About nine thirty." He grinned. "London insist this train arrives before ten so that they get a full day to work on the documents and stuff. Emily had a hell of a row with them about it but she didn't get anywhere." He poured some tea into one of the mugs, judged it satisfactory and filled all four adding milk to two of them. "I'll take these up to the engine, add your own milk."

He was gone again and, after wiping his dirty hands on a scrap of towel, Ianto made his tea and swayed back to the seat, careful not to spill the drink. The tea was hot and refreshing and he sipped gratefully. Jack was back much quicker this time and he took his own tea and sat down beside Ianto, sipping noisily.

"I've been wondering," said Ianto, holding the mug in his cupped hands, "what route does the train take? Do we go north round the Severn?"

"Nope, we go under it." Jack took another drink of his tea. "When the GWR was building the Severn Tunnel for their main line into Wales, Torchwood piggybacked the project and the contractor, one Thomas Walker, built another alongside. Keeping it quiet caused lots of problems but trains ran through Torchwood's tunnel before GWR got theirs operational."

"When was that?"

"Oh 'bout fifteen years ago I think. Round 1885." He looked over at Ianto. "No trains in your time then."

"No, don't know anything about them. I was never sure there were any in the first place."

"Strange. There's a whole cabinet of documents and blueprints in the archives." Jack was testing the waters, seeing if he could get more information out of Ianto. It would be helpful to have some detailed knowledge of what happened to the organisation in the coming years so he could be prepared.

Ianto shifted uncomfortably, aware that Jack was probing for information and not sure if he'd said too much; it was so difficult to know what he could safely say. He decided to act ignorant about everything. "Is it underground all the way?"

"Yeah. Bit convoluted as the tunnel was built in bits and pieces but we get there. Hungry?"

They decided to have some breakfast and Ianto opened up the packages Jack had brought with him and revealed a hunk of cheddar cheese and some slices of cured ham. Using a knife from the cupboard, Ianto cut slices from one of the loaves, enjoying the freshly baked smell and put some of the cheese on them. They munched this happily, not talking as their mouths were full. Once again, Ianto marvelled at the flavour of the food, much tastier than the processed stuff he was used to; he was going to buy organic in future.

As he ate, he watched Jack who had stretched his legs out in front of him and was dangerously balanced on the edge of the bench seat. One jerk of the train and he'd fall flat on his arse. He seemed to be in a better mood, not pressing for more information about the future. Ianto hoped he wouldn't as it was so hard to see him desperate for knowledge when, for as long as he'd known him, Jack had been the more knowledgeable of the two. Thinking back over all he knew of Torchwood, he realised how easily he could let something slip that could lead Jack to change the future. Any mention of Canary Wharf, for example, would send Jack up to London to find The Doctor when he wasn't supposed to be there. Mustn't be there. However painful the losses were to Ianto personally, he had to protect the timeline and ensure Jack did not prevent the demise of Torchwood One. No wonder Jack kept so much to himself; if he dropped any hints about future events they could be changed so easily.

"You look serious," said Jack, rubbing crumbs from his shirt. He picked up his mug and drank some more tea. "Penny for them."

Ianto smiled. "Nothing much. Just thinking how good this food tastes compared to what I'm used to."

"Your food's not that bad. Had a good meal in one of those restaurants on Cardiff Bay, the one that sticks out over the water." He noticed Ianto's stunned expression. "What's wrong?"

"You've been to Cardiff Bay?"

"Yeah, 2006. That was when I was travelling." Had he said too much? He didn't think so but the way the boy was looking at him made him think he might have. "Haven't I told you?"

"No. So you know what it's going to look like? You've been to the Hub?" Ianto was astounded. There was nothing in the records to show an earlier Jack had visited the place while the current one – this was doing his head in! – was there. "You crossed your own timeline."

Jack raised his eyebrows and pulled a face. "So you tell me. Had no idea Torchwood existed back then let alone that we were parked somewhere near by. I guess my later self made sure he kept out of the way."

"What were you doing?" Ianto picked up his second piece of bread and bit into it, keeping his gaze fixed on Jack. Only a year or so before he – Ianto – had joined the Cardiff team, there had been two Jack Harknesses in the city. He found it hard to believe that this had not caused a time paradox of massive proportions. Obviously Jack was able to keep track of potential conflicts and avoid them.

"It was supposed to be a quiet pit stop to refuel but we ended up collaring a Slitheen. Heard of them?"

He took the last slice of bread and cheese and related the story of Margaret Blaine, one-time Lord Mayor of Cardiff. It took half an hour to tell and they laughed a lot. Ianto then told Jack more about the Bay, of which he had seen little, and then of the wider development of Cardiff. It helped to pass the time on what would otherwise have been a boring journey. There was nothing to see out of the windows, no way into the rest of the train and it was too dangerous to stand on the little ledge outside. The conversation moved on and Ianto sat back and let Jack have the floor, listening to tales of his many adventures and trying hard not to feel jealous.


	6. Chapter 6

**Stitch in Time**

Chapter Six

Two hours into the train journey and Ianto was bored, close to being stir crazy. He and Jack were stuck in a carriage with nothing to look at but each other or the darkness of the tunnel outside the windows. They'd talked a bit but even Jack's store of fantastic tales had run out and he'd been quiet for the past half an hour. He was sitting at the left hand end of the bench seat, resting against the side of the carriage with his legs stretched out along the seat mirroring Ianto's own position. Their feet just touched in the middle if Ianto stretched his legs.

"Can we make another cup of tea?" asked Ianto, his words sounding loud in the silence.

"Ummm." Jack had his head tilted back and was staring at the roof.

When he didn't move, Ianto got up and went to the cupboard where everything was stored. It was easier to move around now as the train had settled to a steady speed and was remarkably stable, either that or Ianto had finally worked out how to stay upright without hanging on. The water in the jug was cold and Ianto used this to rinse the mugs, venturing onto the ledge outside the door to throw the water away, doing the same with the dregs from the teapot. It was cold out there and dangerous with the air whipping past threatening to drag him off. He was happy to get back into the carriage where the little stove was still throwing out a decent amount of heat.

"Where did you get the hot water?" he asked.

Jack sighed and looked over, brought back from his contemplation of the roof. "The engine. Lots and lots of hot water in a steam engine. I'd better go." He swung his legs down and stood up.

At that moment the door to the carriage opened and a brawny young man liberally covered in coal dust appeared. "Hello," he said in a broad Welsh accent, "thought it was time for another cuppa." He deposited two mugs on the cupboard top and took the jug. "I'll just fill her up." Then he was gone.

"That was Wally. Walter Jenkins," explained Jack, smiling at Ianto's stunned expression, "the fireman. Nice lad."

"Yeah, just your type."

Jack laughed. "Damn right he is. A quick grapple with him helps make the time go quicker." He nodded towards the cupboard. "Better get the tea in the pot, he'll be back in a minute."

Ianto made himself busy. It was ridiculous to be jealous - Wally would be dead long before he, Ianto, was born - yet he was. How did Jack get to mean so much to him? His introspective thoughts were forgotten when Wally reappeared with the jug of hot water. "Thanks," said Ianto.

"My pleasure." The young man stood in the centre of the carriage having no trouble staying on his feet. "We're making good time, Jack. Should be at Swindon in another hour so you'll be able to stretch your legs then. If you're getting out?"

"Don't want to be seen," admitted Jack. "This is a … private trip."

"Realised that, you'd be back in the good accommodations otherwise." Wally's grin showed strong white teeth in a blackened face. "Tom says he'll pull up a bit short so you can get out on the other side, if you want."

"That'd be great. Thank him for me."

"Will do." He turned to Ianto who was pouring out the tea. "I'd best be getting back. No rest for the wicked." He picked up the two mugs which were already marked with dirty hand prints, and with a smile left the carriage.

Ianto took the other two mugs of tea, handing one to Jack, before sitting on the bench. "What happens at Swindon?" If he thought of that maybe he'd forget the handsome fireman and what he and Jack got up to, probably in this very carriage.

"Engine gets topped up with water and a comfort break for the passengers." He sat beside Ianto resting his forearms on his knees with the mug held in both hands. "There's a proper platform and everything."

"But we can't use it?"

"Can't be seen, not if you want to get this Orb back. Best if no one knows we were in London today." He sipped the tea but found it too hot. "Ow."

"Wally and Tom know."

"They won't say anything." Jack sat back, putting the mug on the bench beside him. "You jealous?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"No!"

"Yes you are," Jack laughed. "You really are smitten if, after the great sex we had last night, you begrudge Wally a quickie between shovelling coal."

"Humph!" Ianto's discomfort only made Jack laugh more.

"You're a card, Ianto Jones. You really are. How the heck do you manage back in your own time?"

"I've got you tamed." He managed to keep his face straight as he stared at Jack whose mouth dropped open in a mixture of disbelief and wonder.

"You're having me on. No one tames Jack Harkness." He said this with such pride that it was Ianto's turn to laugh.

"You'll find out." Ianto sipped his tea, his smile saying so much more than words could.

Jack regarded him with suspicion. To cover his unease, he picked up his mug and sipped the tea; it was still too hot and he winced before replacing it. He decided to change the subject. "You said you've got a plan of the London archives. We ought to take a look, work out how to find the Orb."

Ianto undid his shirt and reached to the money belt fastened round his waist. He had put his iPhone in one of the front pockets and quickly got it out now. With a series of taps on the screen he brought up the plans Toshiko had found. "Here it is." He studied it, not having had a chance in the rush to teleport to this time or since. "Seems much smaller than I remember."

"No, it's about right." Jack was looking at it intently. "These are the original cellars, the lower levels were added later. We'll need the records room first, that's here in the cellars," he pointed at the screen, "which should tell us where the Orb's stored." He paused and looked up at Ianto. "Any idea how big this thing is? Or how heavy?"

Ianto shook his head. "No. I assumed it would be like the one in the Crown Jewels."

"What do the aliens look like? They humanoid?"

Ianto thought back. He'd been in 1900 for less than a day yet it seemed like a lifetime since he had seen the Dellans. "They are … more or less. Bit taller, heavy and squat. Jack, my Jack, said they came from a world with stronger gravity which made them that way."

"But they've got two arms and two legs?" This Jack had never heard of or seen a Dellan and wanted to know more about them, about how his future self knew them but he refrained. Maybe it was better not to delve too deeply into the future, especially if it contained a close relationship with this boy.

"Oh yes. Big hands," he added remembering the one who had captured Gwen and how large the hand at her waist had looked.

"So the Orb could be bigger than you expect. Ah well, we'll have to deal with that when we find it."

They continued to look at the plan, Jack explaining that the train station was on the lowest level which meant they'd have to negotiate two floors to get to the records room and that there would be a fair number of people about. As they talked, Ianto realised that this London base was nothing like the one he had worked in at Torchwood Tower, or Canary Wharf as it was known to the rest of the population. Questioned about this, Jack confirmed that in 1900 the base was far from the centre of London, based in a small manor house at Brentford.

Jack gazed quizzically at Ianto. "So London shifts location then? Gonna tell me why?"

"I don't know." He saw Jack's disbelieving look. "Honestly, I don't. I always assumed it was in the same place although the building is," he remembered to use the present tense, "changed."

"Could have been the Blitz, I suppose," he mused. "That flattened a lot of London."

"You know about that?" Ianto took a drink, watching Jack's face. It was entirely possible; Jack came from the 51st century and as a Time Agent must have had a working knowledge of the key points of Earth history, or a way of finding out.

"Oh yeah. Visited lots of times. That's where I met The Doctor. And nearly wiped out the human race!" Jack was grinning now, remembering that first meeting - Rose hanging from a barrage balloon, scary people in gas masks and the nanogenes. That had been the start of the best months of his life. "I was a very different guy back then." He paused, looking into the mug in his hands. "And you probably think I'm different from the me you know." He looked at the other man out of the corner of his eye.

Ianto took a moment to think about this. Physically this Jack was exactly the same but emotionally he was very different. He was more edgy, more prone to fits of depression and despair, and he was less at ease with himself and his immortality. Plus he didn't have the natural leadership that he would acquire by the 21st century. "I do."

"Think I'll learn a bit of sense in a hundred years?" he joked.

"No, that's not it. You're still impetuous and unpredictable and flirt all the time, don't worry." Ianto smiled to show that was how he liked Jack. "I suppose you've just had time to get used to .. your situation."

"Seems like time's something I'll have a lot of." He stood suddenly and went to the cupboard where he poured some more tea into his mug. "Want some?" he asked, holding up the pot.

"No, thanks."

Jack put a bit more wood in the stove and leant against the side of the carriage. "Right, here's what I think we should do. The train gets in round nine thirty and leaves again at four. Getting to the records room shouldn't take more than half an hour. Once we find out where the Orb is, we get out of the base, go well away and return around three, pick up the Orb and catch the train. That way we're not hanging round waiting and there's less likelihood of being caught."

The change in subject surprised Ianto and it took him a few seconds to take in the plan. He sat and went over it. "You don't think we should get the Orb straightaway and keep it with us?" he asked. "I'd rather know we had it."

"Two problems with that. One, gives them more time to miss it. Two, we don't know how big and heavy it is nor if we'd be able to conceal it. I don't want to be lugging it around all day. Better to go for it just before we head out."

"Whatever you think best, you know what you're doing." Ianto smiled. This was like normal, him following where Jack led. "That hasn't changed."

"Glad to hear it." He reached up to the rack where they had stowed their supplies. "Catch." Ianto caught the apple one-handed.

Over the next hour Jack described the London base and what they would find there, the words were so vivid that Ianto could picture it in his mind. When the train started to slow on the approach to Swindon, they donned their coats, put out the lamp and pulled the blinds halfway down the windows to obscure the view into the carriage. As soon as they were stationary, Jack eased out of the carriage door and away from the brightly lit and sparkling clean platform on the right of the train onto a dirty and unlit service area on the other side. Here they went into the crew's rest room to use the lavatory and freshen up.

Keeping well into the shadows, they returned outside and walked up and down giving Ianto his first clear view of the train. Everything about it was smaller than those he had seen in railway museums, about three quarter size he thought. There was an engine and tender pulling two carriages and two closed goods wagons. He was amused to see that the two carriages, as well as housing the bare carriage he'd travelled in, were divided into first, second and third class compartments; the British class system operated even on this private railway. Ten minutes in the chill air was enough for him and he crept back into their dark carriage, keeping well to the left hand side. Jack returned just as the train jerked into life and moved on. He relit the oil lamp.

The remaining hour and a half of the journey was filled by playing dominoes, which Jack had discovered in one of the cupboards, and finishing off the part-eaten loaf with the ham. Ianto was glad of the distraction. Soon he and Jack would be in the London base, among a lot of people who, if they were discovered, would shoot first and ask questions later. Eventually he couldn't concentrate at all and they gave up on the game, sitting in silence. Well aware of his companion's unease, Jack wrapped an arm round him and held him close instinctively knowing that this would relax the man. At nine twenty, the train slowed for the last time.

"This is it," said Jack into Ianto's ear where it rested on his shoulder. "Remember, we stay on the train until the others have got off then we make for the stairs which will be about ten yards down the platform."

Ianto took a deep breath. "Okay."

"You'll be fine," said Jack breezily, easing away from Ianto and standing up. They put on their coats, Ianto placing his iPhone in the same inside pocket as his Glock. Jack placed the cap on Ianto's head and kissed him hard. "No doubts now."

"No," smiled Ianto, returning the kiss with interest.

"Just think of all that time we wasted. Should have had you up in the rack!" Jack shook his head in mock regret.

"Up there?" Ianto regarded the narrow rack and considered a shag with the energetic Jack up there would be almost impossible … but fun to try. "Maybe on the way back."

"Got yourself a date!" whooped Jack, kissing the boy once more.

As the train slowed some more and jerked over points, Jack extinguished the lamp and closed the door to the stove. Holding Ianto's hand in the darkness, they sat on the bench and waited as the train drew into a station of sorts and stopped. The noise of escaping steam and the bang and crash of doors opening and closing filled the next five minutes. Voices called to one another in greeting and gave directions. Then it quietened. Jack stood and looked out of the window cautiously. The stationmaster was walking away, back to his office, and the women clerks and their crates were nowhere to be seen.

"Come on."

He led the way out of the carriage, hesitated at the top of the steps down to the platform for one last look up and down, then walked briskly to the stairs. He heard Ianto walking close beside him and his quick breathing. The two men climbed up the stairs, Jack in the lead, pausing on the first landing to listen for other people, then went up another level. This time, footsteps and voices were loud in the corridor and Jack pushed Ianto back down the stairs until the other people had moved past. More cautiously they went up again, reaching the cellars where Jack led them into a small storage room full of brooms and other cleaning equipment.

"This is the old cellars," he said quietly. "The records room is the big room on the left and there's always people working in there. They'll know me in an instant so you're going to have to go and check the card index."

Ianto started. "What? This wasn't part of the plan."

"Yes it was, I just didn't tell you." He gripped Ianto by the upper arms. "You can do this, Ianto Jones. The card index will be on your left against the back wall. Go to 'U' and look up the card for the Orb of Uska. Note the location – should be a level, room and rack number – then come back here. Walk normally and look like you have a right to be there." Jack loosened Ianto's jacket and pushed the cap back on his head. "That's better. If anyone asks say you're new."

"I can't do this, Jack!" protested Ianto.

"'Cos you can. Now go." He turned Ianto and, after checking the corridor, pushed him out with a reassuring smile.

Alone in the long whitewashed corridor, Ianto stood irresolute before taking a step towards the open door a yard or two ahead on the left. He heard the noise of a typewriter coming from the room which spurred him to walk faster, not aware that such machines were available in 1900. He wanted to see it in action.


	7. Chapter 7

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Seven

Ianto stepped into the records room, his heart in his mouth and silently cursed Jack who was making him enter the lion's den, so to speak. He moved slowly to the left where a huge bank of wooden drawers holding the card index stood, raised up from the floor on legs for easier access.

His eyes swept the large room which stretched away from him. In the centre were three rows of two desks each facing to the right where a single raised desk stood at the far end. It was like an old-fashioned classroom where pupils faced the teacher. Five of the 'pupils'' desks were occupied, three with women typing - the machines were fascinating and Ianto almost went in that direction to take a closer look but stopped himself in time - while at the other two, men were reading and annotating documents. All worked silently and diligently under the attentive eye of 'teacher', an older man with muttonchop whiskers who was reading some papers when not looking up and checking on his subordinates. On his desk were marks of his status: wicker baskets as in- and out-trays, a fancy inkstand and a candlestick telephone. Around the edges of the room, along the walls, were waist-high benches and high stools with papers and files in neat piles. The light came from small windows set high in the wall opposite the door, supplemented by oil lamps on some of the desks. The whole place smelt musty and faintly of … wine, decided Ianto, and betrayed the room's original use as a cellar.

Not wanting to linger any longer than absolutely necessary, Ianto stood in front of the card index and found the letter 'U', neatly printed on a card set into the front of three drawers. With his back to the room he was even more nervous as the noise of the typewriters covered sounds of movement and footsteps. At any minute someone could come up behind him, put a hand on his shoulder and demand to know what he was doing. Ianto's hand shook violently as he reached to the second of the three drawers and opened it. Fingering through them, he realised it was the third drawer he needed. He closed the drawer and opened the one below, grateful they slid noiselessly. At his second attempt he found the card he needed and read it quickly. Committing the information to memory, he replaced the card and closed the drawer.

Whistling alerted him to a boy coming into the room and walking past him. "More envelopes, Mister Wilkins," the boy called in a friendly manner, going up to the man at the single desk. "Came up from Cardiff, they did. They'll keep you lot busy for a bit."

"Put them down there, Lincoln, and less of your cheek." The man with the whiskers growled at the newcomer, pointing to a particular spot on his desk. There was a slight lightening in the atmosphere of the room as the five workers smiled. One was even brave enough to look up from her work and exchange a glance with the man sitting next to her.

Holding his breath and using the boy's arrival as cover, Ianto left the room, forcing himself not to run. He cannoned into a woman just outside the door and folders and papers fell to the floor as she reeled backwards. He immediately reached out to steady her.

"Sorry, miss," he muttered, attempting to lessen his Welsh accent.

"No harm done," she replied.

The pair of them crouched down and retrieved the papers and folders. It took several minutes to get them all and to put them straight during which Ianto was acutely conscious of the smell of her lavender perfume. She was a pretty girl, he managed to ascertain that much from the brief glances he allowed himself. Dark hair caught up behind her head framed strong features and a pair of deep brown eyes. At her throat was a cameo brooch pinned into a pale pink blouse which was covered by a thick, dark green jacket with tight sleeves. Her full-length skirt was made of the same material and covered smart, black button boots.

With all the papers collected, the girl gave him a happy smile before continuing into the room. Ianto escaped down the corridor. The door to the cupboard where Jack was hiding was open a chink to let the man inside see what was happening. He stepped back when Ianto, checking no one was in the corridor, pulled it open and went inside. He leant against the shelves of dusters and polishing cloths, closed his eyes and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"Did you get it?" asked Jack.

"Level three, room A, rack seventeen," he recited.

"Good work." He clapped Ianto on the shoulder. "And you met the lovely Miss Prendergast. Lally Prendergast."

Ianto opened his eyes and glared at him. "Another of your conquests?"

"Not yet but I have high hopes." He grinned before moving to the door. "Now, let's get out of here." He jammed a floppy felt hat on his head and pulled down the brim.

The two men walked briskly up the corridor, Jack keeping his head down as if lost in thought. His face would be immediately recognised; 'the man who couldn't die' had become a talking point for all Torchwood personnel. Ianto followed him, anxious to be out of the place but also interested in his surroundings. It was very different to Torchwood Tower. The corridor was entirely devoid of decoration. Plain cream walls were broken only by a number of doors leading to more rooms. They passed two staircases leading up before Jack decided to ascend one. It was narrow and twisted, obviously used only by servants when the house had been a family home. At the top Jack halted, a hand on Ianto's chest to stop him, peered out briefly then strode on across a hallway with a beautiful, highly polished parquet floor to a large outside door. Once through this they were in a paved yard at the back of the building. Ianto could smell cooking and decided they were somewhere near the kitchens.

Jack strode off down a path between tall, privet hedges and Ianto hurried to catch up. So far they had seen very few people, just two men in the cellar corridor who had given them no heed as they hurried about their business, and Ianto was feeling more confident. A house was easier to leave than an underground maze like the Hub and it appeared they'd done it. They were walking in gardens now, a lone man digging a rose bed in the far distance, and the sunshine and fresh air helped boost his confidence even more. A tall gate set into a boundary wall loomed ahead of them and Jack went up to it, fiddled with his wrist-strap and it clicked open.

On the other side they entered a quiet street with houses on the opposite side. Trees were planted at intervals to provide shade in summer. Two closed carriages clattered down the street drawn by glossy horses. A knife grinder moved slowly, carrying his equipment on his back and calling out to alert house owners – or rather their servants – to his presence. A door opened and a pretty parlourmaid appeared and beckoned to him. Two gentlemen strolled down the opposite pavement, talking animatedly and looking smart in their dark overcoats and top hats with decorative walking sticks in their hands. Ianto drank it all in, reminded anew that he was in the year 1900.

"So, Ianto Jones, we're free for a bit," said Jack, slapping him on the shoulder. "Put the information in your phone, just in case. Don't expect you want to have to go back and get it again."

"No," replied Ianto with feeling. The phone was still in his inside pocket and, shielding it from passers-by, he quickly keyed in the location of the Orb and took a quick photograph of the street. Turned to the wall, he put the phone in the money belt and refastened his shirt.

They walked on a few yards, sauntering now and looking around them. Ianto stopped to watch an open carriage pass by, a pretty girl and an older woman – her mother? Governess? – sat inside. Jack whipped off his hat, grinned and bowed low. The girl smiled at the two men revealing dimples in her cheeks but the older woman frowned and ordered the driver to go faster. Ianto smiled too, delighted with the sights around him. This was so much better than the industrial dirt of Cardiff docks and the small, cramped terraces. These elegant houses and the people who lived in them were a different world.

"Ah, that's what we need." Jack stood on the edge of the pavement and whistled, raising his hand. The hansom cab – a two-wheeled affair pulled by a single horse with the driver seated behind – pulled up alongside them. "In you go," urged Jack, opening the front doors and pushing Ianto up and onto the seat, climbing in to sit beside him. "Kew Gardens, cabbie, but take your time and go via the river," he shouted through the small gap behind their heads.

"Right you are, gov'nor. Get up there!"

A slight crack of the whip and the cab started forward at a steady pace. Once closed, the doors enclosed the cab up to chest height leaving a clear view in front over the horse. The two men were shoulder to shoulder and Jack felt Ianto quiver with excitement. The Welshman was looking in every direction at once, taking in the sights around him as well as examining the cab itself. A sudden smile told Jack that Ianto had discovered something that amused him.

"This is just like the cabs Sherlock Holmes uses," he said, glancing at Jack. "I've seen them on the telly." He was unaware of his slip in mentioning television, too delighted by his new experience.

Jack smiled. "Guess so. Long as I'm Holmes and you're Watson. Now take a look out there." He gestured in front of the cab. "We're about to join the main road." He sat back, his gaze fixed on Ianto and the play of expressions on his face.

The road in front was busy with all manner of horse drawn vehicles - carriages, hansoms, carts, closed delivery vans and omnibuses – all vying to get along as fast as they could. Among the vehicles were men on horseback, gesticulating as they were held up by the sudden halt of a vehicle. The pavements were busy too. Men and a few women walked up and down, most of them dressed like Jack and Ianto or worse, in rags and barefoot. While the sun was shining it was the middle of October and not that warm and these poorer folk were blue with cold. Shops and businesses lined the road with owners standing in shop doorways surveying the crowd, trying to attract more custom and keeping out the riffraff. In any odd space or corner were street vendors selling from trays hung around their necks or boxes set before them. One or two beggars rattled a metal cup or held out a cap for pennies.

As he took all this in, Ianto's other senses were assailed by the noise of people shouting and crying out their wares especially of paperboys trying to sell the latest edition of the newspapers. Metal clanged on metal as the cab passed a dray outside a public house where two men were rolling barrels of beer onto the pavement and down into the cellar. And above all else, Ianto noticed the smell. Horse dung dropped onto the road and stayed there to be trodden in by the other horses and walked in by unwary pedestrians crossing the road. Coal smoke hung in the air along with food smells: raw meat hanging uncovered in a butcher's open shop front and rotting vegetables as well occasional aromas of cooked food. And unwashed human bodies gave off a reek of their own.

Ianto took all this in, delighted and appalled in turn by the scene before him, as the cab edged down the street, its smaller size finding the gaps and making better time than the larger carriages. At the end, the cabbie negotiated a junction that had the Welshman gripping the doors in fright at being overturned by the recklessness of the other vehicles and took a quieter side road that ran down to the river. They continued along a riverside, residential street at a slower pace and Ianto now peered round Jack to look at the boats going up and down the Thames. There were working boats, barges carrying all manner of goods from factory to the docks, and passenger boats gaily decked with ribbons and carrying families.

Eventually Ianto could take in no more and he sank back in his seat. "Oh, Jack, it's .." He couldn't find the words.

Jack took his hand and squeezed in reassurance. "I know. Not far now and we can get out and stretch our legs."

The cab turned into another main road with traffic heading into the city and, after a few hundred yards, it turned right and drew up outside the entrance to Kew Gardens. "Here we are, gents," announced the cabbie.

The two men got down and Jack paid the driver. "Two shillings for you, my man, and my thanks for an excellent ride."

"Ta, gov'nor." The cabbie saluted them, putting his long whip to his hat, and moved a yard to two only to be hailed by another man.

"I remember this," said Ianto, looking at the entrance gates. "I came here on a school trip when I was a kid."

"Bit different now." They walked through the gates and Jack paid the entrance fee and bought a plan of the gardens beyond. "It's a great place to while away a few hours and who knows, we might find a quiet, secluded corner where we can be alone." He leered at his companion, nudging his arm.

"One track mind, that's what you've got," joked Ianto walking away from the entrance to stand and look round the open grassed space spread out before him. "I need to sit down, Jack, I can't take it all in."

"Sure. Let's go over there."

They walked across the grass to a metal and wooden slat bench set at right angles to the entrance. A clock chimed and Ianto looked round until he found it set high above the entrance gates. It was ten forty five. They had over four hours before they needed to get back to Torchwood London and retrieve the Orb and he intended to enjoy every last minute. Beside him Jack was studying the plan of the Gardens leaving Ianto to sit back and drink in the peaceful scene. Men and women were walking decorously along the paths stopping from time to time to admire a particular plant. A group of children all dressed alike had obviously come from their schoolroom to enjoy some autumn sunshine and were playing a running game under the almost leafless trees. Two uniformed nannies sat on a bench, the large wheeled perambulators beside them, and chatted.

"I believe it now," said Ianto quietly. "I believe I've travelled through time."

"How do you feel?" Jack twisted sideways and sat with one leg bent up on the seat to look at Ianto.

Ianto shook his head. "I don't know. Amazed. Frightened. Overwhelmed. Happy." He smiled at Jack. "Was it like this for you, the first trip you took?"

"Uh huh. There's nothing like your first time."

"Where … when did you go?"

"Haven't I told you?" He looked at Ianto quizzically.

"No. You've not said much about your early life. Just the basics. Tell me, Jack, I want to know. I'd probably understand now."

Jack sighed, gazing into the distance and marshalled his thoughts. "It was my first job as a Time Agent. I was teamed with a senior agent who was royally pissed at being lumbered with me. We went to Marjellicza Prime in 4562, an out of the way colony world that had nothing to commend it, where … well, let's just say a criminal was trying to hide." He smiled before continuing. "All I wanted to do was to walk around and watch the locals. I'd never seen people like them. And the technology! So rudimentary it was hard not to laugh. But they were what forged the Human Empire, pioneers who had made my life possible." He lapsed into silence, a smile on his lips as he recalled those times.

"Did you get the criminal?"

"Umm. Well, Sugell did; I was too green to be much help. I remember we stayed an extra day just so I could wander round a bit more."

"I feel like that. I'd like to follow these people," he flung out one arm gesturing at all the couples and groups in sight, "home and see how they live. Find out what life is really like for them."

"And that's what a time traveller can never do. He can't get involved with the locals." Jack's smile had disappeared and his expression was bleak. "Not unless he gets stuck and can't get home."

Ianto rested a hand on Jack's knee. "If you hadn't, cariad, I'd have never got to know you and my life would have been the emptier for that."

The older man gazed at Ianto for several minutes before his smile returned, turning into a toothy grin. "Thank you." He placed his own hand on top of Ianto's for a moment, before putting both feet back on the ground. "Time to explore. There's lots to see."

"Come on then." Ianto was on his feet and grabbed Jack's arm, pulling him up too. "Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Eight

The sun was warm on their backs as Jack and Ianto set off along meandering pathways past flower beds that had enough in them to keep the two men interested even at this time of year. Jack looked at the plan of the seventy five acre Kew Gardens occasionally but for the most part they were content to go where their feet took them and were prepared to enjoy everything they saw.

Jack was entranced by his companion's obvious wonder in his surroundings, from plants to people. A boy dressed in a sailor suit playing at hoop and stick on the grass was of as much interest as the latest rubber trees acquired from remote South America. Ianto's laughter at a man riding a penny-farthing bicycle was so genuine and went on so long that Jack wondered if he would ever stop. He had forgotten the joys of time travel, and his own irritation at being stuck in Victorian England had made him unsympathetic to the everyday sights and sounds. It took Ianto's eyes to open his own and make him interested once more. Suddenly the thought of living through the next century didn't seem as bleak, especially if Ianto would be waiting for him at the end of it.

"What's that smell?" asked Ianto, looking round and sniffing. It was a pleasant aroma and tantalisingly familiar.

"Hot chestnuts. Round this corner I think."

They walked round a high hedge and came across a man standing behind a brazier with roasting chestnuts on the hot coals. "Morning, gents. 'Ave some 'ot chestnuts, warm you up a treat," the man promised. He grinned at them enticingly. "Penny a twist, that's all, gents."

Ianto tried hard not to stare but he'd never seen anyone with teeth as bad as this man's. They were black with rot and one or two were broken off revealing stumps. He didn't think the man would be able to eat his own wares, not with teeth like that. "May we, Jack?"

"Sure." He reached into his pocket, took out a penny and handed it over.

The man quickly hid it in a pocket of his disreputable coat and using his hands – which were in fingerless gloves – he scooped up a good number of chestnuts and placed them in a cone of paper, twisting the top closed. The heat didn't appear to bother him though Ianto found the cone hot when he accepted it from him.

"There you go, gents. Thank you kindly." The man touched the brim of his hat and looked round for more customers.

"Wow, these are hot," said Ianto, walking beside Jack back to the main path, "but they smell delicious." He took his handkerchief from a pocket and wadded it up to provide some protection for his hands.

"Let's sit down and eat them."

Sitting on a low wall, Ianto placed the cone down gratefully and blew on his hands. "That man just picked these up. His hands must be made of asbestos!" He gingerly reached in and took a chestnut, using his handkerchief again.

"You're too soft, my time travelling friend. A few months here would toughen you up." He took a chestnut and broke it open, peeled off the skin and bit into the tender flesh inside.

There were silent for a while as they ate the nuts, watching the people before them. The visitors fell into three main categories. All were well-to-do - the entrance fee excluded the poor - but the more aristocratic paraded around the paths taking the air in the hope of seeing, and being seen by, their acquaintances. Others used the place as an upmarket park, somewhere for their children to let off steam and a safe haven for women to walk in twos and threes without a male escort. A tiny minority of visitors were interested in the plants and these bent to read the labels of interesting specimens while others sat and sketched.

"They were lovely," said Ianto, wiping his hands on the handkerchief. "I feel really guilty, though, you've had to pay for everything."

"You paid in kind … last night." Jack popped the last chestnut into his mouth and chewed while grinning at the sight of Ianto's reddened cheeks. He couldn't understand how such a shy boy managed around him, he must be blushing constantly.

"Everything is very cheap," went on Ianto, ignoring Jack's insinuation. "Those loaves you got. They were … what? A shilling?"

"That's right, including the bacon sandwich." Jack leant back on his hands, turning his face up to the sun. They were in a natural suntrap and it was pleasantly warm. "Josie's more expensive than some but it's the best."

Ianto's expression became thoughtful. "How many shillings in the pound?"

"Twenty."

"Okay. It's 100p now. Twenty into 100 is … five. So those loaves cost … Blimey, less than two and half p each!" he exclaimed. "I paid £1.43 the day before yesterday!"

"But you earn a lot more. Most men earn less than thirty shillings a week. And have to work long hours to get it." Jack sat up. "They have poor housing, no sanitation, no job security, no health care and no one to look after them in their old age. If they live that long." He ticked off each point on his fingers as he spoke. "Still envy them?"

"Of course not, not the poor. And it's a crying shame, I know that. But someone with money, now he has a good life. Big house, servants, transportation, the best food and a house in the country. And most of all a much slower pace of life, now that I envy."

"And he gets all of that on the backs of the working man." Jack shook his head but decided to let the matter drop. "Let's not argue, it's too nice a day."

Ianto smiled, amused at seeing Jack as the workers' friend. "Agreed. Where to now?"

Jack checked his watch, a gold one that hung from a chain and which he kept in his trouser pocket. "Umm, coming up to noon. Why don't we look round a bit more, take in the Temperate and the Palm Houses, and then head back to the entrance. There's a decent restaurant where we can get some lunch before heading back."

"Oh Lord, we've got to go back. I wish we could stay here, just you and me and no Torchwood." He placed his hand on Jack's knee briefly.

"Me too, surprisingly." He shook his head, narrowed his eyes and grinned. "I haven't had this much fun for a long time."

Ianto smiled and blinked against the moisture in his eyes. This Jack had to live another hundred and six years before they would meet again. He would fight in two World Wars and countless other human conflicts as well as face up to all manner of aliens. All the colleagues he knew now would die, as would those who followed them, and leave him to carry on. And at the end of that time would come the realisation that The Doctor could not cure him, that he was going to live for billions of years. And yet … and yet the Jack Ianto knew in the 21st century was positive about his life and committed to protecting Earth. Once again, Ianto wondered at Jack's resilience and mental strength. Could it have been forged in the century to come?

"Want to run away together?" suggested Jack with a twinkle in his eye. "We could make a bit of money and live like the toffs you admire so much." He was joking but if Ianto agreed he would do it.

"That's tempting, Jack, very tempting. But I can't. People are relying on me." He looked away and put aside all the images of a future for the two of them in this time and place; it could be so good. "I told you my colleague … my friend, Gwen, is being held. If I don't go back with the Orb she'll die and so will all my other friends. I can't let that happen."

"I know. It was just a thought." Jack stood up, making a fuss of brushing down his coat where he'd been sitting on it to hide his emotions. "Come on." He held out a hand and Ianto took it willingly letting himself be pulled to his feet.

Ianto stood before Jack, very close. "You'll find happiness, Jack, if you don't shut yourself off from it. And we'll meet again."

"Then that makes it worthwhile."

With a smile, Jack started walking, keen to avoid further emotional utterances and make the most of this day with Ianto. The two men fell into step and walked on, each thinking his own thoughts, until they came to the Temperate House, the largest glasshouse in England. Ianto remembered it from his previous visit but the plants inside were smaller than the ones he had seen then and there were less of them. The same was true of the Palm House and neither held his interest for long.

Lunch was taken in the restaurant which, at this time of year, was not overly busy. Jack took them to the less exclusive side - which was more in keeping with their dress – but even so their table had a thick white tablecloth and heavy cutlery and they were served by an attentive waiter. The steak and kidney pudding with vegetables, potatoes and thick gravy was flavoursome and plentiful and they washed it down with glasses of ale. For pudding they chose apple pie and custard. To Ianto's delight coffee was available and he ordered it with barely suppressed anticipation while Jack had tea. The drink was as good as Ianto had hoped and he sipped it slowly, savouring every mouthful.

Jack watched him with an amused expression. "Enjoying that?"

"Oh yes." Ianto looked over at his companion and smiled. "I'm very particular about coffee, as you'll come to know."

"Prefer tea myself."

"Not once you've tasted my coffee, you won't."

When Jack had paid the bill, another small amount which had Ianto marvelling, they stood by the entrance gate debating what to do next. It was two ten and they had to be back at Torchwood's London base by three to allow time to collect the Orb and catch the train back to Cardiff. Eventually they agreed to walk back and started out at a leisurely pace. Crossing the road was an experience Ianto did not wish to repeat, convinced one of the horsedrawn vehicles would mow him down, but they made it to the other side in one piece. The pavement was wide at this point and they were able to stroll along side by side, looking at the shop fronts. Without plate glass windows, few goods were displayed unless it was food when the shop fronts were open. At a newsstand, Jack stopped and checked the contents of a magazine before buying it.

"Here," he said, holding it out to Ianto, "a present."

"What is it?" They walked on a few paces until they could draw out of the flow of pedestrians.

"_The Strand_. Got an old Sherlock Holmes mystery this month." He was grinning. "Give you something to read on the train."

"Thank you." Ianto smiled back at Jack before putting the magazine into one of his jacket pockets. "Which way now?"

"Right at the next corner. We'll be in quieter streets then."

As they walked on, Ianto couldn't fail to notice the beggars sitting on the kerbs or against the walls of shops. Some had horrendous deformities while others were missing arms or legs, or both. One man had lost both legs and was sitting on a crude, low wooden trolley. Hanging from his neck was a sign proclaiming him to be an old soldier. Jack leant down and dropped some silver coins in the man's collecting tin earning him heartfelt thanks.

"There are a lot of them," said Jack angrily as they turned into a side street. "They were crippled in South Africa and no one does anything for them. You'd have thought the Government would know better after Crimea!"

"At least we know it will change, in time," soothed Ianto.

The two men walked in silence down the street. This was less gracious than the others Ianto had seen and he looked around with interest. The houses were tall, narrow and mostly in poor repair with peeling paint on the windows and doors, missing window panes and leaking gutters. The sanitation must have been poor too as there was an unpleasant smell of sewage. Yet amid the squalor (and Ianto knew these were not the worst of the slums in London) happy children played and contented women stood on doorsteps and chatted, all of them enjoying the autumn sunshine.

A few twists and turns later and they were in another busy road. They walked past more shops and stalls, stopping to look at some of the goods on display but not buying anything. Taking their lives into their hands once more, they crossed the road and headed back into wide residential streets. There were more carriages about, all with women inside.

"It's time for afternoon visits," explained Jack, watching a particularly attractive young woman alight from her carriage and mount the steps to a front door. He nodded towards the woman. "She'll present her card and the lady of the house may, or may not, receive her. They'll sit in the drawing room and drink tea and converse about nothing before this one leaves." As they walked past, the woman was admitted to the house. "And they'll do it all again tomorrow. Filling up time in idle chitchat."

"I've never known you so … political before. In fact, I can't think of any time when you've passed a comment like that."

"Shit! Don't tell me I get like them." Jack had stopped and was gazing at Ianto in horror.

"No, you'll never be like them. You're never like anyone." Ianto had stopped now and was looking back at Jack, a smile on his lips. "I've never known anyone like you."

"As handsome, you mean?" teased Jack as they started walking again. "Or … as intelligent? As sexy?"

"All of those," laughed Ianto.

Rounding another corner, Jack pulled out the hat he had stuffed into a pocket and roughly pulled it into shape and put it on. "We're getting closer," he warned. "Look right when we cross the next street and you'll see the front of the building."

Ianto felt the tension return to his body, reminded of the reason for his trip in time. It wasn't to spend a relaxed day with Jack, it was to snatch the Orb of Uska back from Torchwood One and return to Cardiff and 2008 in time to save Gwen. He just hoped he'd be up to it. Crossing the road, Ianto glanced in the direction Jack had indicated and had his first good look at Torchwood's London base. The sunlight glistened on the cream stone and reflected in the many windows of the large three storey house set back in well tended, wooded grounds behind a wall. Central double gates of fancy wrought-iron stood open to let through a carriage; Ianto was reminded of the many National Trust houses he had visited with Lisa. Then the view disappeared as the two men moved into yet another street of houses.

"Why is it here?" asked Ianto. "Why did Torchwood chose this place?" he gestured with his arm to the surrounding buildings.

"The house belonged to Lord Walker of Dalgety. When he died, he left it to the Crown and Victoria gave it to Torchwood. They've made a lot of changes, like those extra underground levels, but you'd never know from the outside."

"There didn't seem to be much security." He was thinking of the many security measures in place at Torchwood Tower and the Cardiff Hub – CCTV, ID cards, key pads and iris recognition amongst them.

"Oh it's there all right. Which is why we're not using the front door." He turned right. "We'll go in the same way we came out. Once inside, stick close. We'll head straight down. It was level three, right?"

"Yes. Level three, room A, rack seventeen." The information was engraved on his memory.

"Okay. With luck there'll be no one else around and we can get in and out without a fuss. Then we'll hole up in a place I know until it's time to get on the train. Can't get there too soon, Tom doesn't bring her in until ten minutes before departure."

"Where does the train go?" Thinking about irrelevancies like this was helping quell Ianto's nerves.

"A depot, about a mile further on. All the engines turn round there and they can get any maintenance they need." They were walking beside the boundary wall and the gate was a few hundred yards further on when Jack stopped, pulling Ianto to a halt with a hand on his arm. "Last chance to change your mind. We could turn round and forget all about Torchwood."

Ianto met Jack's intense gaze. "I can't do that."

Jack searched Ianto's face and then sighed. "No. I didn't think you would but it was worth a shot." He grinned then continued walking.

At the gate, Jack opened it using his wrist-strap controls and they were inside. The garden was empty and they walked quickly along the paths, keeping behind the high hedges as much as possible. Near the house, a boy came out of a door and ran off on his errand forcing the two men to duck back until he was out of sight. Then they reached the door they'd used before and Jack led the way in, moving purposefully across the hall into a corridor on the other side. Halfway along, he started down a staircase.


	9. Chapter 9

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Nine

The staircase wound down into the lower levels below the Torchwood London base. Jack led the way, stepping quietly and listening for movement below them as they reached the first landing. Sensing all was clear, he continued down another level with Ianto following behind also trying to be quiet, not easy in heavy boots on a stone staircase. Just before the next landing, Jack halted and urgently gestured Ianto to climb back up a few steps. The two men pressed themselves against the wall as quick footsteps tripped past on the landing below. When they had receded into the distance, Jack gestured and they continued down reaching level three a few minutes later.

"It's this way, I think," said Jack, leading them along the corridor.

Ianto concentrated on keeping up with Jack and looked about him to control his nerves. The corridor was similar to the floor above, the original cellars, which housed the records room – featureless and with doors opening off - but there was a newness, an unfinished quality that made it obvious this was a later addition. Each door was labelled and they were passing room F when footsteps and voices came from behind them, heading in their direction.

"Come on," hissed Jack, pulling Ianto along by the arm.

They hastened along the corridor until they came to a dark bathroom and Jack went in, quickly pulling the door to behind them. They stood either side of the door, pressed against the wall, and listened as the footsteps and voices approached. Ianto heard at least three voices and footsteps of half a dozen. Eventually they walked past but while the footsteps stopped the voices continued in the distance.

"Where have they gone?" whispered Ianto, relaxing a little.

"Don't know. I'll go take a look, stay here."

With a quick grin, Jack headed out leaving Ianto alone. He stood in the dim room – the only light coming from the corridor through glass panels in the door – and imagined all the things that could go wrong. Thoughts of cells and indefinite incarceration were uppermost and he reached into his jacket and pulled out his Glock, feeling better with it in his hand. He'd go down fighting rather than end up a prisoner. He looked about the room which was a standard bathroom with two stalls and basins and a towel hanging from a rail. A noise made him look back at the outer door where the handle was turning and a figure blocked out some of the light. Ianto slipped into the shadows, the gun held ready. Someone walked into the room and closed the door, standing just inside.

"Ianto, where are you?"

The Welshman breathed again and stepped forward. "I didn't know who you were," he whispered, smiling with relief.

"We have a problem," admitted Jack, leaning against the basins. "They've gone into room A, just where we need to be! Looks like a demonstration or something. We're going to have to wait until they've gone." He sounded disgusted even in a whisper.

"How much time do we have?"

Jack checked his watch, holding it to the light. "It's three fifteen. Half an hour at most."

"They won't hang around that long, will they?" said Ianto hopefully. Jack shrugged which said more eloquently than any words that he fully expected them to stay for hours.

The two men stood in silence for five minutes, ears strained to hear any change in the voices from down the corridor. One, a man, was doing most of the talking and his voice droned on and on. Another five minutes passed. Jack was still leaning against the basins but Ianto was now beside the door, more anxious than ever that they get the Orb and get out of this place. He still had the gun in his hand.

"Maybe I should go in there," suggested Ianto, walking over to stand by Jack. "They don't know me, I could just be a new employee."

"Wouldn't work. Cavendish is in there and he knows everyone."

"Who's he?"

"Looks after the staff. Personally vets all the people taken on."

"Oh." Ianto's brief optimism faded. He returned to his post by the door. A moment later he said, "Someone's coming."

The footsteps grew louder, coming from the opposite direction to the group in room A, and Jack joined Ianto at the door, easing it open a crack. He saw the trim figure of a young woman enter the room opposite and turn on the gas light. An idea came to him, one which made him grin in a way Ianto knew well; a crazy plan was in the offing. Before Ianto could stop him, Jack was out of the bathroom and across the corridor. Ianto, after checking no one else was about, followed. When he entered the room, he saw Jack with one arm round a struggling woman and with his other hand clamped over her mouth. Ianto quickly closed the door and went to join them.

"Be still, Lally, for God's sake! It's only me," said Jack urgently in a low voice. "Promise you won't scream and I'll let you go." Muffled sounds of protest came from the woman who continued to fight against Jack.

Ianto had recognised the girl as the one he had bumped into that morning and tried to help. "Please … Miss Prendergast," he dredged up her name from somewhere, "Jack's right, we'll not hurt you." She evidently didn't believe him and continued to struggle, managing to kick Jack's shins with the heel of her boot.

"Ow!" protested Jack. "That's it. If you don't stop this we will hurt you!" he hissed. "I'll break your bloody neck!" The clinical, clipped tone and his change of hold on her head did more than all his words could. She stopped struggling, her eyes wide with terror. "Better," said Jack. "Now, are you going be sensible?"

She nodded her head and he removed his hand fractionally, ready to clamp it back over her mouth if she started to scream. His other arm continued to pin her to his body. She didn't scream, just took in a ragged breath and looked at Ianto, fear in her eyes. "Please, help me."

"Wrong way round, Lally, my love. You're going to help us." Jack relaxed his grip and turned her round so he could see her face, holding onto her upper arms. "We just need you to do a little job, that's all. Nothing much. Just collect an artefact for us and bring it here."

She looked from Jack to Ianto and back again, anger replacing the fear. "Get it yourself," she snapped.

"We would if we could but Cavendish is in there with his cronies. If he sees me there'll be all hell to play and Ianto's a stranger. So, it has to be you." Jack fixed her with a stare but she was not cowed.

"And why I should I help you? And who's he?" She nodded towards Ianto. "And what was he doing in the records room?"

Ianto decided he might have more success with her than Jack. "Miss Prendergast, my name is Ianto Jones and I work for Torchwood but in the 21st century." He ignored Jack's grunt of annoyance. "I need the Orb of Uska which is in room A to save Cardiff from aliens in my time. A lot of people will die if I don't take it back with me."

"What did you tell her that for?" demanded Jack, glaring at him.

"Because it's the truth and if she's going to help us she should know why. Please, Miss Prendergast, will you help us? Help me?"

The girl regarded him curiously. "You don't look as if you're from the future," she said finally having looked him up and down.

"You think I'd let him wander round in his Armani suit?" protested Jack. He released her and threw up his hands in despair.

"Jack's been looking after me. Helping me to blend in." Ianto held up his hand which still held the Glock. "This is from my time. Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Oh give her a gun, why don't you?" Jack raised his eyes heavenward and looked disgusted.

"That's a gun?" Lally Prendergast asked, looking down at it. She reached a hand and stroked it but made no attempt to take it. Then she looked into Ianto's face, trying to decide whether to believe him or not. It was an open face, attractive and at that moment earnest and honest. She remembered how polite he had been when he'd knocked into her. Glancing at Jack she wasn't frightened of him any more. All Torchwood London employees were wary of him but he had always been nice to her if rather forward. All her instincts told her to help these men. "All right, I'll help." She glared at Jack. "I'm doing this for him, not you!"

"I don't care who you do it for, Lally, my love, I'm just glad you're doing it." Jack grinned at her. "It's the Orb on rack seventeen. No idea what it looks like but I'll bet you can find it. Now off you go," he pushed her in the direction of the door, "we don't have much time."

"I'm going." She glared at him some more and straightened her clothes. "And don't call me Lally!" She flounced out.

"Do you think she'll be all right?" asked Ianto. He put the gun away, self-conscious about still holding it.

"She'll be fine." Jack was by the door keeping watch. "Soon as we've got it, we head downstairs."

"Okay."

The two men waited in silence as the minutes ticked by. The sound of voices was deadened by the thick walls of the room, a much larger one than any Ianto had been in thus far and containing metal racks holding assorted alien artefacts. The tension was mounting once more.

Ianto couldn't bear the silence any longer. "Do you think she's told on us?"

"No, they'd have been here by now." He cracked open the door and risked a glance up and down the corridor - the voices were still droning on – before closing it again. "Maybe this thing is too big to carry."

"Oh fuck!"

"Love to. But time and place, Ianto, time and place."

Jack grinned at him then went still; footsteps were coming down the corridor. He stood beside the door ready to overpower any unwelcome visitor. Ianto dived behind one of the racks as the door opened. Lally Prendergast walked in carrying a wooden box and struggled to close the door behind her. Ianto stepped forward and took the box while Jack closed the door.

"It wasn't rack seventeen, it was fifteen," she complained, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Don't look at me," protested Jack, "he's the one that checked the records. Let's have a look at it." He opened the box and peered in. "You sure this is it?"

"That's what the label says." She came over to look into the box too. "What a strange thing."

"Let me see," complained Ianto, his view blocked by their heads.

Jack reached in and pulled out a small round object that sat in his palm. It was made of a silvery-blue metal with three bands of another material running around it from top to bottom into which were set oblongs of a deep violet. Symbols were engraved in the panels between the bands, abstracts that meant nothing to the three humans.

"Not very impressive," said Lally. "I've seen a lot better."

"Oh I don't know," mused Jack. "These are alcamallines." He pointed to the oblongs. "Highly prized jewels on some planets."

"Whatever." Ianto had no time for admiring the Orb. "Just put it in the box and let's get out of here."

Jack thought for a moment then smiled. "I have a better idea. We'll put this little baby in here." He placed the Orb in the pocket of Ianto's jacket; it strained the material but went in. "Lally, my love -"

"I told you not to call me that!"

Jack's smile became a grin. "I know, I have great hearing. Saved my life once. On Galorria Inferior it was, if I hadn't heard them plotting - "

"Jack!" Ianto hissed the name, putting all his frustration into the one word. "We don't have time for this."

"Right. Gotta save the future." He was still grinning and turned to face Lally. "We'll leave the box here. Later today, when the coast's clear, put it back where you found it. With any luck no one will realise the Orb's gone."

"All right. Where are you two going now?" Having decided to help them, she wanted to make sure they got away. Despite herself, she was enjoying the mini-adventure, a change from her usual cataloguing duties. "Cardiff?"

"Yes, we have to get the train." Ianto had closed the box and now handed it to her. "Thank you very much, Miss Prendergast." His smile lit up his face and she smiled back.

"Yeah, gotta run, Lally. Next time I'm in London, I'll take you out, my treat. We'll go to the music hall." He held her by the shoulders and kissed her soundly. "And you may get another one of those."

She opened her mouth to protest but found she didn't want to, the kiss had been quite … stimulating. Much better than the ones she got from the young man she was walking out with. "I'll hold you to that," was all she said as the two men went to the door. "Good luck."

With a grin, Jack and Ianto went out into the corridor and strode off, away from the continuing drone of voices, until they found a staircase. They went down to the lowest level in the base, level four, where there were holding cells and the train station. Jack checked his watch – three forty five – and led them to an angled recess that was deep in shadow and smelt of disinfectant.

"We'll wait here until the train comes in."

Ianto nodded, not that Jack could see, and leant back against the wall. The Orb was heavy in his pocket but he had it. He would be able to return to Cardiff and give it to the Dellans and save the hostages. The realisation that his first – and he hoped his last - time travelling mission was looking like it might work out successfully should have made him happy but he found instead that he was sad. Jack, his Jack, was waiting back in 2008 but Ianto didn't want to leave this one or this time. Even with all the scares, he had enjoyed the past day so much; it was going to be hard to leave.

"You all right?" asked Jack quietly, a hand reaching out in the dark to Ianto's arm.

"Yes. Just want to get out of this place." Ianto forced a lightness into his tone. He couldn't share his regrets with Jack, the man had enough to face over the next hundred years.

"Me too. We'll go back in the same carriage as before so we head for the engine."

"I'll be right behind you, don't worry."

Ianto heard Jack's throaty chuckle and then the distant sound of a steam train approaching. They waited until the noise drowned out all else, reverberating off the brick tunnel, and then eased out of their hiding place. Standing back out of sight of the platform at a little-used access point, they saw the engine stop just before the tunnel that led back to Cardiff. The platform became busy with porters bustling about loading crates, large leather boxes of documents and some suitcases. The two women clerks who had travelled up that morning appeared in the company of a man and all got into the second class carriage. At this point Tom, the engine driver, opened a valve and released a noisy escape of steam providing cover for Jack and Ianto to leave their hiding place and walk swiftly across the platform and onto the train. Jack let Ianto into the carriage first, waiting outside the door to keep watch on any last minute comings and goings. A final passenger appeared, a man in a silk top hat and fur-collared overcoat, attended by two minions. He got into the first class carriage without a word and one of the minions settled him in before joining his colleague in the third class carriage. Then the stationmaster was waving his flag and Tom let out the regulator and blew the whistle; the train was on its way.

Jack found Ianto sitting on the bench seat in the dark. "We've got company," he announced as he lit the overhead oil lamp. They were in the tunnel now and no one could see it.

"What?" Ianto started up and looked around him.

"Not in here," smiled Jack, making sure the lamp was burning steadily. "In first class. Edgar Tredegar-Smith, the head of Torchwood. Wonder if Emily knows she's getting a visit?" He took off his greatcoat and hat and bundled them on the rack before going to the small stove and adding more wood. It was giving out a good heat but the carriage would get cold if it wasn't fed regularly.

"Never heard of him." Ianto stood up, grabbing at the rail to keep steady as the train rocked from side to side. He took off his jacket and cap and placed them in the rack tidily, handing the Orb to Jack. Having folded Jack's coat tidily, Ianto sat down next to the other man and heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God that's over."

"On the home straight now," agreed Jack, looking up from his study of the Orb. "We'll be back in Cardiff just after eight. You can go back then." His serious voice and lack of facial expression made Ianto's heart break.


	10. Chapter 10

**Stitch in Time **

Chapter Ten

The train rocked as it went over some points and Ianto stumbled, lost his grip on the rail attached to the roof of the carriage and fell onto the bench seat landing heavily in a corner.

"Having fun?" asked Jack with a chuckle. He slid along the bench until he was next to his companion.

"Does it look like it?" Ianto rubbed at his elbow which he had hit on his way down.

"Want me to kiss it better?"

Ianto looked at him and smiled. Only a few minutes ago Jack had been solemn and depressed about Ianto's return to 2008, now he was teasing. It was worth a bump or two to affect that change. "If you like." He held out his elbow and Jack, very seriously, kissed it.

"Anywhere else hurt? 'Cos I'm in kissing mode." Jack leant forward and his lips met Ianto's unresisting mouth. They stayed locked together for several minutes and might have progressed to other things but Jack was hampered by still holding the Orb of Uska in one hand and Ianto was concerned that Wally Jenkins, the fireman, might appear wanting a drink. "Let me put this down and we can get really comfortable."

"No, Jack." Ianto out a hand on the other man's arm, the smile softening his words. "Not yet. I'd like to look at this Orb properly and won't Wally be coming in for tea soon?"

Jack sighed. "Probably. But you're not adverse to some … explorations later?"

"Got to pass the time somehow," teased Ianto. "And you said something about doing it up there." He looked up at the rack above their heads.

Jack laughed and drew back. "You're my kind of guy. Here, take a look at it. But be careful. Not sure it's purely decorative." He handed over the Orb and stood up. "I'll get some hot water." He left the carriage.

Once alone, Ianto took his mind off Jack by concentrating on the Orb. It filled his palm and was weighty but not overly heavy to hold. It had been made with great craftsmanship, that was obvious, and the symbols had been carved with care. Ianto did not know what they meant but he could appreciate the skill needed to create them. The oblongs that Jack had said were jewels did not sparkle, instead they were dull but a beautiful violet colour. Holding the Orb up in his hand at eye level, Ianto could see why it would be valued as an object but he could not understand the Dellans' willingness to devastate Cardiff to get it back.

The door opened and Jack appeared carrying the jug of water. "Still admiring it? It's a nice piece." He put the jug on its stand and opened the cupboard below, getting out the teapot and mugs.

"It is but I can't understand why anyone would go to war over it."

"I was wondering that myself. Best put it away, Wally'll be along shortly to collect the tea." Jack was pouring water into the teapot. "Don't want him seeing it."

Ianto stood, holding onto the rack even though the train had now picked up speed and was travelling smoothly, and put the Orb in the pocket of his jacket. He had returned to his seat when the fireman appeared. "Hello, Wally."

"Hello there. Did you have a good day then?" Always optimistic and happy, Wally brought with him an air of wellbeing.

"Yes, thanks. I had a very good day." Ianto shared a smile with Jack.

"Hope you and Tom weren't working all the time," put in Jack, standing with his hands in his pockets and leaning against the window.

"Oh no, we had a fine time." He went on to regale them with a minute account of the few hours he and the driver had spent looking round London and the sights they had seen. Ten minutes later, he returned to the engine with the mugs of tea.

"He's a nice lad," said Jack, sitting beside Ianto sipping his tea. "His father's a miner but ever since he was young Wally's wanted to drive trains. He'll take over from Tom in due course."

"Can't be much fun, stuck in this tunnel all day, every day."

"They get more free time than most. And a steady, well-paid job is worth its weight in gold."

The comment made Ianto think again of Jack's defence of the working man when they had been in Kew Gardens. It was a side of the man that Ianto had never seen before and he wondered if the next hundred years would desensitise Jack, make him less willing to identify with his fellow humans. It was likely; he was going to see humans at their worst after all. Ianto regretted it but decided it would be a natural consequence of living a long time.

"You all right?" Jack reached a hand and ran it over Ianto's head, coming to rest against the back of his neck where he stroked the sensitive skin. "You're very serious."

"Just thinking." He drank more of the tea then stood and retrieved the Orb. "What makes you think this could be dangerous?"

"Never said it was dangerous. Not on its own anyway."

Ianto looked at him attentively then back at the Orb. Jack had evidently noticed something about the artefact. Ianto studied it again, tracing the three bands and the jewels with a finger and peering at the symbols. It took him several minutes but eventually he found an anomaly. "It's rough here." His finger rested on one of the joins between the bands. "Nowhere else is rough."

"Well spotted. And what could have caused that rough patch?"

Jack was wedged in the corner, one foot resting on the seat, watching Ianto, his mug of tea held in both hands. Sitting like this he had a good view of Ianto and the puzzled frown on his face. The boy was a delight: amusing, handsome, sexy and with a mind of his own. He was going to miss having him around. As soon as the thought occurred, Jack thrust it away. They would be in Cardiff in a few hours and Jack was not prepared to spend the time until then in regret – he'd done enough of that in recent months. He planned to enjoy this journey and not whine about his fate. And, he admitted, perhaps it was time to stop wallowing in self-pity and drowning his sorrows. When The Doctor came Jack wanted him to be proud of what he, Jack, had achieved not find a pathetic, drunken wretch.

"Something snapped off perhaps. Or … it might have been joined to something."

"More likely the latter. We haven't got the equipment to test it but when you get back make sure you scan it thoroughly before handing it over."

"I will." Ianto replaced it in his jacket pocket. He sat down, sliding along the bench so his back was pressed against Jack's front. Taking one of Jack's hands, he held it in his own. "This is nice."

The stayed like that for the next hour, chatting about their day and laughing a good deal. Then the train started to slow down for the stop at Swindon. As before, the two men nipped out and used the bathroom on the service platform, stretching their legs for a few minutes before getting back in the darkened carriage. Ianto knelt at the window and looked out at the people on the other platform who were accepting refreshment from the porter stationed there. The object of Ianto's curiosity was Edgar Tredegar-Smith who, according to Jack, was the head of Torchwood. He was a big man who held himself aloof from the other travellers as he strolled up the platform a time or two before drinking a cup of tea poured from his own silver pot. He was middle-aged and heavy-set, dressed in a fine high collared suit of exquisite cut – Ianto envied him that suit – with a permanent scowl on his face. Then, when Tredegar-Smith indicated he was ready to re-board, and not before, the train got underway.

"What's his background?" asked Ianto from his place on the floor. Jack was re-lighting the oil lamp and stoking up the stove.

"Not sure. Bit of a mystery man all round, is our Edgar. He obviously comes from money and I suspect he was in the Navy though I can't prove it; he made sure his records got misplaced." He reached a hand to help Ianto to his feet. "More importantly, what's he going to Cardiff for?"

"To check up on you, I expect." Ianto stood close to Jack, his arms wrapped round the familiar body. "What have you been up to?"

"Lots of things," chuckled Jack. "Helped a stray time traveller to steal an artefact for one."

"You won't get in trouble, will you?" Ianto was concerned.

"Nah, they're not going to know. And anyway, didn't you say the Orb disappeared from the London archives around now?" He raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Ianto. "Seems this was meant to be."

The thought was new to Ianto and he moved over to the seat to ponder it some more. "I hadn't thought of that," he said after a few minutes. "You mean this has happened before? But you … my Jack, doesn't remember it."

"Seems I take this amnesia pill." He sat beside the other man. "And aren't I 'your Jack' too?" He stuck out his bottom lip and tried to look sad but couldn't quite pull it off.

"Always."

They embraced hungrily and buttons were undone as hands groped for the bare flesh beneath. While he was still sensible enough to think about it, Jack bolted the door to prevent interruptions and then continued his explorations. The money belt was in the way and took ages to unbuckle and remove much to their frustration. Contrary to his expectations, Ianto found the long johns both men were wearing highly erotic and they spent some time enjoying the sight of one another in them. Finally free of clothes and other constraints, the two men made love at first urgently and then more slowly, pleasuring one another. At one point they were on the bench and at another standing pressed against the windows. They even made it onto the luggage rack but as Ianto was laughing so much at the contortions they had to get into it wasn't a great success. The floor was where they ended up, lying in one another's arms covered in sweat and dust and breathing heavily.

"I'm going to miss this," said Jack, running a finger down Ianto's arm.

"Humph! Don't try telling me you're going to be celibate until we meet again because I won't believe you." Beneath his ear, Ianto felt Jack's chuckle reverberate in his chest.

"Got me there."

"Darn right I have. I know all about you," he poked at Jack's naked chest, "and don't you forget it."

"And I know nothing about you. Where you come from, your family, nothing. Will you tell me?"

Ianto thought about the request as he sat up. As long as Jack took the Retcon – and Ianto was going to ensure he did as otherwise the timeline would be compromised - there seemed no harm in telling him some basic facts. "I was born on 19 August 1983," he began, summarising his life in a few short, pithy sentences. As he talked, he stood and used some of the remaining water, now long gone cold, to wash himself before getting dressed.

During this Jack remained on the floor, propped up on his elbows, and tried to memorise as much as he could. He planned on taking the amnesia pill - not doing so would endanger the timeline and he would not fool with that – but some nuggets of information might lodge in his brain and stay there. It might end up being a mere niggle at the back of his mind, like a half remembered dream, but that was better than nothing and would help him through the next hundred years.

"So there you have it," concluded Ianto, "the boring life story of yours truly." He smiled at Jack, so unselfconscious in his nakedness, hoping the bits he had glossed over – like the Battle of Canary Wharf and Lisa – weren't obvious.

"It's not boring at all, nor are you. Now, help me up."

It was nearly seven o'clock when Jack had washed and dressed and they made more tea and ate the last of the bread and cheese from the morning. With an hour of the journey still to go they found it hard to find anything to talk about. To fill the time, Ianto got out _The Strand_ magazine that Jack had bought and settled on the bench to read it. He stretched out his legs along the seat and Jack did the same, closing his eyes and pretending to doze. Hanging over them both was Ianto's imminent return to the 21st century which saddened them and neither wanted to speak of it.

The magazine contained an enticing mixture of fiction and factual material as well as some brain teasers and Ianto was soon lost between its covers. He started with the fiction, ignoring the serial and going instead for a short story featuring the gentleman thief, Raffles, which led him on to other stories. There was a lot of reading in the magazine, which he found cost only six old pence, and some delightfully gruesome illustrations, at least one on every page. It would take a long time to read it cover to cover and he was looking forward to savouring it when he had more leisure.

"Hey, we need to talk about when we get to Cardiff." Jack nudged Ianto's foot with his own to get his attention; the boy had had his head in the magazine for long enough.

Ianto reluctantly closed the magazine. "You're not going to make me climb on the roof again, are you?" he asked warily.

"No. But with Tredegar-Smith on board we can't just walk across the platform either. Emily must have been warned he's coming and there'll be a reception committee to meet him." He pulled a face. "Lot of show for nothing but he expects it. I've arranged with Tom for him to reduce speed in the final bit of the tunnel so we can drop down beside the track."

"Is that safe?"

"Piece of cake. We'll just have to stay down until the train's moved past then walk the last few hundred yards. That way no one will see us and we can wait till everyone's off the platform before getting out." Jack smiled encouragingly. "We'll get back to Ma Humphreys' so you can change then return later tonight when it'll be quiet. Still got your teleport?"

"Safe in here." Ianto tapped the money belt around his waist.

"Good." He closed his eyes again.

Ianto leant his head back and drew up his knees. His time in 1900 was nearing its end and, if he survived jumping off a moving train and avoided detection by the Torchwood operatives in the Hub, he would be home soon. He gave some thought to what he would have to do once he was back. Get Toshiko to check the Orb, that was the first thing. If it was safe to return to the Dellans, Ianto would have to take it to Jack who was with Owen at the Llanishen Reservoir where the aliens had landed and where the hostages were being held. After that it would be up to Jack to decide what to do, whether to return the Orb or not, and Ianto would be glad to hand over the responsibility.

He looked across at this Jack and realised again how much he owed him. On his own, Ianto was bound to have been captured and never got anywhere near the Orb. If they managed to get the hostages back and the Dellans left, it would be thanks to the man sitting in front of him. And he would remember nothing about it. Ianto nudged Jack's foot and saw the other man's eyes open.

"In case things get busy later, Jack. Thank you, thanks for everything. I'd never have managed without you."

A slow smile crept over Jack's face. "Just make sure it's all been worth it. I guess we'd better get our stuff together, won't be long now."

They spent ten minutes tidying the carriage and putting on their coats. Ianto put the Orb in a inside pocket of his jacket for safety, moving his Glock to an outer one where it would be handy if needed. Jack ran over the plan with him again and once they were past the junction with the Glasgow line, they went to stand outside the door of the carriage. It was cold and draughty and Ianto's hands grew numb where they gripped the railing. Then the train slowed.

"Now!" said Jack in his ear, giving him a push off the train.

Ianto jumped, rolling as he landed on the greasy gravel. He felt Jack do the same, ending up a few yards further up the line. They lay where they had fallen, heads turned to the wall so no one in the carriages passing above them would see anything if they looked out of the windows. When the train had rounded a bend and the noise faded away, they were left in the dark tunnel. Small lamps glowed high above their heads barely shedding enough light to see the tracks.

"On your feet." Jack was beside him, hauling on his arm. "Easiest to walk on the tracks. Let's go."

They walked the five hundred yards to the light shining at the end of the tunnel where Jack halted, keeping Ianto back in the darkness. From this vantage point, they watched events on the platform.


	11. Chapter 11

_The concluding chapter ..._

* * *

**Stitch in Time**

Chapter Eleven

The train was sat alongside the platform but Jack and Ianto had an excellent view from the mouth of the tunnel where they were standing. A short, blonde woman in tweeds and a more stylishly dressed and taller brunette were greeting Edgar Tredegar-Smith, the Head of Torchwood. A respectful distance away stood the stationmaster, resplendent in a uniform covered in more gold braid than an admiral's, and lined up were half a dozen young men and women. The only people moving were Tredegar-Smith's two minions who were unloading his suitcases and other belongings and putting them on a trolley; the man was obviously intending to stay.

Ianto recognised the woman in tweeds as Emily Holroyd and marvelled at her small stature, so at odds with her reputation even a century later. She was talking with Tredegar-Smith, the only two people that were saying anything, the rest were listening in respectful awe. Ianto's gaze went to the other people lined up on the platform, the Torchwood Three operatives. He couldn't quite believe that they were doing the same job as him. How did the women cope in their long skirts and corsets? He smiled as a picture of Toshiko and Gwen dressed in a similar way running after Weevils came to mind.

"They're moving at last," whispered Jack. "Thought they'd be there all night!" Emily was leading Edgar Tredegar-Smith along the platform in the company of the tall brunette. His minions trailed along behind with the bags. "We'll just wait until everyone else leaves too."

"I recognise Emily Holroyd, but who are the others?"

Jack snorted. "So Emily's reputation lives on, does it? Not surprised. Her constant companion is Alice Guppy, sadist of the first order." He shuddered theatrically. "She loves inflicting pain." He went on to name the others. "Only Charlie Gaskell missing, wonder how he managed to get out of it?"

"And you. Won't you be missed?" Ianto turned to look at Jack, having to peer into the darkness to see more than just a vague impression. The tunnel was very dark in comparison with the well-lit platform.

"Nope. I'm freelance, don't have to bow and scrape to visiting dignitaries."

He watched as two porters trundled the crates to the hoist where they would descend to the lower levels. The operatives were finally moving off, in ones and twos, and the train burst into life and inched away to the end of the line and the loop where the engine turned around. The stationmaster lingered a few more minutes, surveying his domain, before locking his office and walking importantly after the train to collect the journey logs from the driver, Tom.

"This is our chance," said Jack, taking Ianto's elbow. "Come with me, we'll be going down a level before heading back up." He led them up some shallow steps onto the platform and hurried across to the first staircase. They went down quickly but cautiously, making as little noise as possible. At the next level, Jack led them along a corridor and then into another until coming to a narrow staircase and heading up. They saw and heard no one and this made them careless.

They were sauntering along a damp corridor and Ianto's thoughts were far away, on the imminent parting from this version of Jack whom he would miss, miss a lot. Jack was a pace ahead when a man stepped from a shadowy alcove and grabbed Ianto. An arm was wrapped round his neck and a gun placed against his temple immobilising him completely. His gasp of surprise and alarm was the first Jack knew of it and he was several steps down the corridor before he turned round, hand reaching for his gun.

"Don't do it, Jack." The man holding Ianto spoke softly and with a cultured accent. "What are you up to?"

"Charlie." Jack smiled at the dark-skinned man, settling into a relaxed stance, hands well away from his gun. "Me? Up to something?"

"You always are." Charles Gaskell tightened his hold on the stranger. "Who's this and what's he doing here?"

"His name's Ianto Jones and he's my latest squeeze." Jack shrugged. "Ma's cutting up a bit rough about the number of people I take back to her place so I brought him here."

Ianto's heart was pounding. The pressure on his windpipe made it hard to breathe and the gun hurt where it was pressed hard against the side of his head. This was not good. They had come so close to success it was not fair that he had been discovered when about to complete his mission. Visions of being locked in a cell and tortured filled his mind and panic assailed him blocking out all else, he could not even concentrate on what Jack and the other man were saying.

"Rubbish! Ma Humphreys would do anything for you." Charles tightened his grip once more and Ianto stood on tiptoes to keep from choking, hands desperately clawing at the arm that held him but unable to move it; the man was strong.

A slow smile crept over Jack's expressive features. "Ah, should never have taken you back to meet her. Might have got away with it then." He moved a little closer.

"Stay back! I think I'll put you both in the cells, should loosen your tongues."

"Really, Charlie, thought you'd come up with something better than that." Jack took another pace forward. His eyes flicked from Charlie's face to Ianto and his gaze rested there. "Why don't you just kill him?"

In an instant, as their eyes locked, Ianto's mind cleared. That tone of voice was so familiar, conveying a suggestion though no one else would have recognised it as such. Continuing to struggle against the arm that held him, Ianto let one arm drop and reached into the pocket where he'd put his Glock. Jack and Charles Gaskell were speaking but Ianto tuned them out, concentrating on getting the gun out without attracting attention to himself. Only when it was clear of the pocket did he wonder what he would do with it. Should he kill Gaskell? What would that do to the timeline? He hesitated, looking across at Jack and listening to what was being said.

"Last chance, Jack. What did you do in London?"

"Went for a walk in the park, I told you. Can't think why you won't believe me." He was pleased Ianto had understood his message about the gun and could see it resting in the Welshman's hand. What he could not understand was why Ianto hadn't used it. Jack could distract Charlie for only so long.

Gaskell snorted with laughter. "Sneaking on and off the train? Wandering about the Hub with a stranger? All to enjoy a walk in the park! And the boss just happens to choose the same day to come and audit us? Pull the other one! "

"It's the truth. I have no idea what Tredegar-Smith is doing here." Jack spread his hands and shrugged to indicate his innocence, flicking a glance at Ianto who was still doing nothing. "You worried about an audit? Been cooking the books?" The flash in Gaskell's eyes told Jack that he had hit on something. "You have, you naughty boy!"

Ianto felt Gaskell's momentary loss of concentration and twisted violently loosening the arm round his neck. With one arm he knocked away the gun held to his temple and trained his Glock on Gaskell, drawing in a much needed draught of air and filling his starved lungs. Jack moved at the same time, taking charge of Gaskell's gun. In moments, he had one of the dark-skinned man's arms bent behind his back and his chin held so he could not cry out. They didn't want to attract any more attention.

"You took your time!" accused Jack, looking at Ianto.

"Sorry." Ianto lowered his gun and rubbed at his throat. "Now what?"

"Now we take Charlie to a quiet spot and he tells me all about whatever scheme he has going because I want to know why I didn't get a slice of the action." Jack's smile was feral. "I don't like being left out."

"We don't have time for that. Can't we just tie him up or something?"

"And have him blabbing about you? No, we're going to have to come up with something more permanent than that." Gaskell struggled on hearing this and Jack held him even tighter. "However, until then tying him up sounds like a good plan. And get a gag too."

It took five minutes to find an empty room, tie Gaskell to a metal chair and gag him. Only then did Ianto have a chance to pull Jack to one side for an urgent word. He was concerned that Jack was going to kill this man and he didn't want that to happen. Not only to protect the timeline but because he didn't want the death on Jack's conscience.

"Jack, I can't let you kill him."

"What are you talking about?" Jack looked at the young man in astonishment.

"You said you wanted a permanent solution. The only one is -"

"That forgetting pill of yours," interrupted Jack. "You've got more than one." He had seen them when Ianto had transferred them to the money belt.

"Oh." Ianto felt ridiculous; he had misjudged Jack again.

"You think I'd kill him? Am I that much of a monster in your time? Is that what's going to happen to me?" Jack turned away and took a few paces into the room. The more he discovered about his future self the more he dreaded the next century.

"I'm sorry, cariad," said Ianto coming up behind Jack, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. "It's all I could think of; you always have much more sense than me." He was relieved when Jack turned to face him but the hurt in the older man's eyes was painful to see especially as he – Ianto – was the cause. "Retcon it is."

Over the next hour Jack interrogated Charles Gaskell, getting all the details of a small time fraud involving the hire of horses and other means of transportation. Ianto fretted over the time it was taking but said nothing as he didn't want to upset Jack again. He felt awful for implying the man was a wanton killer and wanted to make it up to him. Finally Jack had all he needed, written on a scrap of paper so he would remember it later.

"Right, time to get on," Jack said. He knew Ianto had to leave but he was finding it very hard to let go of the precious day of happiness he had known with this man. Not only was he losing Ianto, he was losing all memory of him too. "How does this pill work?"

Aware of Jack's feelings, Ianto smiled reassuringly. "Once swallowed it'll make you sleepy. When you wake, in a few hours, you'll have forgotten the last day."

"How long after it's taken before you lose consciousness?" By concentrating on the details Jack hoped to get through this parting without breaking down and begging Ianto to stay. Or knocking him out and disabling the man's teleport.

"About half an hour."

Jack stared at the floor as he considered their options. "Okay. We don't have time to get you back to Ma's, you'll have to go back as you are."

"But my suit …" interrupted Ianto.

"Will be a mystery I'll have plenty of time to mull over." Jack took Ianto by the upper arms and gazed into his eyes. "We can't leave Charlie here, it's too risky: he'll either be missed or someone will find him. You have to get out now while the coast is clear. We'll give Charlie his pill. I'll take one just before you leave and have time to get him upstairs." He smiled, trying to be his normal assured self. "It'll look like we were sleeping here. Okay?"

Ianto hesitated but then nodded, it was the sensible way forward. "Okay."

They administered the drug to an unwilling Gaskell and left him where he was before returning to the place where Ianto had arrived. They did not speak, both men lost in their own thoughts, annoyed their time together had been cut short by Gaskell's intervention. Ianto was storing up impressions of this place and time and the man walking beside him. He wanted, somehow, to make Jack feel better about himself but he didn't know how, not when he was going to forget all that had occurred over the past twenty four hours. Ianto sensed Jack distancing himself, pulling away into a safe place where he could endure the separation and the next hundred years.

All too soon they arrived.

"I'm going to miss you," said Ianto, enveloping Jack in a fierce embrace.

Jack chuckled, able even in his own distress to see the humour in the situation. "You're going to see me again in a few minutes."

"No, not you. The same face, the same body but not you as you are now." Ianto hoped he was making some kind of sense. "You change."

"Gotta a lot of living to do, bound to change a man." He patted Ianto's back then eased out of the embrace. "Let's have that pill." He held out his hand and pulled a face when Ianto placed the small, while pill in his palm. "Such a little thing."

"I'm sorry you have to take it but ..." Ianto couldn't complete the sentence.

"But I have to. I know. It's been good, knowing you and I ..." He sighed and took a deep breath. "It's helped, knowing there's a future for me. And someone to share it. Think I might remember that much?"

"Perhaps." It was possible. Gwen had thrown off the effects of the Retcon altogether and Jack was as strong if not stronger than her. He could well remember something of this day. He watched as Jack dry-swallowed the pill. "I love you," Ianto said, kissing Jack with all the passion he possessed.

Jack was unable to say anything. Not only was he enjoying this last embrace but he found his throat was thick with emotion. He gently pushed Ianto away. "Quick now, before I change my mind and kidnap you."

Ianto laughed, blinking back tears. He retrieved the teleport from the money belt and held it in his hands. "Be seeing you." Even saying this, Ianto hesitated, unwilling to activate the teleport and leave this man behind.

"Go! Got the Orb?"

"Yeah. Bye then." He resolutely slid his thumbnail over the activation panel.

-ooOoo-

So much happened in the hours after Ianto's return to 2008 that he didn't get a chance to talk to Jack privately until late at night. Gwen and the other hostages had been recovered and she was now at home with Rhys. Owen had left too, off to get drunk after seeing the Dellans on their way. Toshiko was at her desk, studying the scans she had made of the Orb, so involved in her work she didn't notice Ianto as he walked through the work area with mugs of coffee. In the office, Ianto placed the blue striped mug before Jack and sat on the visitor's chair.

"Back to normal I see." Jack smiled as he spoke, reaching for the coffee.

Ianto looked down at his modern suit. He'd only just showered and changed out of his 1900s gear. "Yes."

"You took a hell of a risk today." Jack leant back in his chair, coffee held in both hands before him.

"Not really. I knew you'd help me." He smiled at the older man, remembering the storm of anger from this Jack when he'd learnt what Ianto had done and heard about his adventures.

"You were lucky!" Jack sighed deeply and took a sip of coffee. "I always wondered what happened back then. Lots of ... tantalising reminders that something had."

"I did wonder if the Retcon would work on you." He shifted uncomfortably, not sure what Jack remembered of that very special day. He had told him and the others the main points but not about the private times between the two men. "The Hub was different back then. Can't believe this was the stationmaster's office," he continued, smiling, "or that there was a lake out there." He nodded towards the lower level. "I did some checking, seems it all changed in the earthquake of 1908."

"Lots of things changed then, lots of people died."

"Were you there?" Ianto shivered as he thought of Jack buried under tons of rubble.

"No. I was in India. Came back to find most of my friends dead."

They were silent for a moment or two before Ianto spoke again. "I was checking on some people, those I met. Couldn't find any trace of Edgar Tredegar-Smith, there's nothing about him in any of the records."

"He was Torchwood's biggest scandal - which is saying something! - and his successors wiped him from the records."

"What did he do?"

"He was a traitor, gave alien technologies to the Germans and helped start the war. First World War, that is. Without him it may never have happened."

Ianto was stunned. "So he was executed?"

Jack smiled grimly, opened his mouth to say something and changed his mind. "That's right," he said finally. No need for Ianto to know that the man had been held captive and used for experimentation for years.

"I found that Wally Jenkins and Charles Gaskell died at the Somme."

"Yeah, them and a lot of other good men."

Jack sipped his coffee and watched Ianto who was obviously affected by what had happened to men he had met only hours earlier in his personal timeline. The Welshman needed cheering up. Placing the mug on the table, he pulled out his gold watch and chain from a waistcoat pocket. "See this?" He pointed to something round and metallic hanging from the chain.

Ianto leant forward and took a closer look. "A coin. A pound coin."

"Found it in my room later that year. Never understood how I got a coin from 2008."

"Oh my God, it was mine!" Ianto gasped, remembering Jack putting it in a bowl with some other useless currency. He explained what had happened. "I'd forgotten all about it."

"Forgot your suit too. It was hanging behind my door."

"We were going back for that," explained Ianto, "but were jumped by Charles Gaskell and had to leave it behind." He explained what had happened. "I'm a lousy time traveller."

"So don't try it again!" Jack had already secured the Newok teleport in his personal archives behind triple locks so no one else could use it.

"I won't. Makes me sick." Ianto had been copiously sick in the work area after his return, much to Toshiko's alarm. "Time-travel sickness," he added with a smile.

"Affects people that way sometimes."

"Did I leave any other reminders of my visit?" Ianto asked before finishing his coffee.

Jack smiled, too relieved to have Ianto back safely and the Dellan threat removed to be really angry at the risks the boy had taken. "Not a reminder as such, more a consequence." He reached into a drawer of his desk and took out a tin. Rifling through the contents he handed Ianto a photograph in a paper folder.

"Can't be us, I'd remember if we'd had our picture taken," he joked. Opening it he gaped. "Oh my God," he said eventually. The photograph was a wedding photograph of Jack and ... "Lally Prendergast! You married Lally!"

"Yes. She told me I owed her for her help, me and 'my young Welsh friend'. Didn't know what she was talking about, of course, but I never turn down advances from a pretty woman."

"I tried to trace her but couldn't." Ianto was staring, trying not to be hurt that Jack had been married and not told him. "What happened to her?"

"She died. In 1907, scarlatina. That's why I went off to India, anything to get away." He smiled weakly at Ianto. "I'm glad someone else remembers her now."

Ianto stood and walked round the desk, perching on the edge close to Jack. "I'll do that. And I'll remember a very kind man who looked after a stranger when he was dire need. A man took me to Kew Gardens for a wonderful day out. A man who made love to me in the luggage rack of a railway carriage," he added very quietly.

Jack's bark of laughter rang round the Hub. "I got you up there?"

"You did. Was wearing these at the time." Pushing aside his tie, Ianto opened a couple of shirt buttons and revealed the long johns underneath. "Want to see how good I look in them?"

"You know I do." Jack reached out and pulled Ianto onto his knee.

Outside in the work area, Toshiko had looked up when Jack laughed and now saw that it was clearly time for her to depart. Very quietly she slipped out of the Hub leaving Jack and Ianto to get reacquainted.

* * *

_Many thanks for reading this story - Jay_


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